Esperanza and Roque
by LeighWolf
Summary: My own version of the classic tale, where the Beast is returned to his human form between the hours of ten and midnight every day. Hope -- Beauty -- must learn to love the Beast even though she's fallen in love with him as a man. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**:

Once upon a time there lived a young maiden who resided with her father in southern France. Now her father was an ambassador and often traveled to various countries on business of the crown. The young maiden was proud of her father and often dreamt of traveling with him. She stayed at home though, helping to do the chores that her mother would have normally taken care of.

At the tender age of six, the girl witnessed her mother succumb to illness and die of a terrible fever. The young girl had grieved, but she quickly learned to move on knowing that now, as an only child, she was in charge of many household affairs. With her father gone for most of each year many things were left to her decision, and knowing this she grew up very sharp minded and practical. A part of her still wanted to travel and find a way of life where she had time to read and pursue her hobbies instead of always running the household, but for now this was not an option.

Also not much time passed before people discovered that the girl was beautiful, and over the years she developed into the most beautiful girl in town. At the age of sixteen the maiden had several suitors calling at her door. For a while the maiden was amused by all of the flattery and courting, but when asked to marry, the girl would decline saying that no man she had met so far was honest enough to be her groom. So, much to the dismay of her father, the maiden continued to be unmarried.

For two years the father and daughter argued of marriage and for two years the daughter won the argument. The maiden was determined not to marry until she found the perfect man. This dismayed her father even more. He wondered, out of all of the men that had courted his daughter and those he had met in his travels, who could be more perfect—and as she wanted—more honest?

/\/\/\

"Father!" Hope rushed down the stairs of their house to greet the aging gentleman as he returned from a month long meeting.

Jonathan dismounted from his horse and wrapped his daughter in a tight embrace. "Oh, my darling Hope! How are you?" his voice was light and yet rich at the same time.

"I'm fine, how did the meeting go?" Hope's voice was sweet and much lighter than her father's.

"It went well and I have a new assignment in Spain."

"Spain? Oh, father, may I go with you? Just this once! May I, please?" Hope pleaded with him batting her eyelashes and looking up at him adoringly.

"Of course, you've been invited to come along anyway."

"Really, by who?" Hope asked.

"By the duke of the estate where we will be staying. He is celebrating his birthday with a party and when he learned about you, he insisted that you come." Jonathan smiled lovingly down at his daughter who had hugged him again.

"When are we leaving?" Hope couldn't wait to go. She had never been invited to anything ever before and she was exited at the chance to attend her first party.

"We leave in a fortnight," Jonathan replied. Hope smiled with joy, only two weeks! She couldn't wait to leave.

"Oh, and Hope," Jonathan called after his daughter who had suddenly torn herself away from her father and had started for her room, presumably to start packing, "don't forget to pack a ball gown."

"Of course, I know just which one I'll take. Thank you father," and with that she was off to her bedroom to decide exactly what she would pack.

* * *

**AN: Yea! My first fanfic! Hope y'all enjoy it! Well, here goes nothing...  
For full summary and disclaimer please visit my profile.**


	2. Chapter 2

The two weeks passed by very quickly in reality, but to Hope they could not have gone by slower. Time always seems to stand still when one is excited, and Hope was ready to scream her heart out by the time it was all over. She was packed and ready to go a full three days in advance, and she could not have been more jumpy than on the morning of their departure.

With their pending departure in but a few hours, Hope and her father Jonathan made sure to say goodbye to every one of their servants and helpers. Hope found this easy to do and so she was left with extra time that she spent roaming their garden. In one corner of the garden there stood a small greenhouse, and Hope ducked her head beneath the low door and entered. She had always loved the flowers that grew in the little glass building, and she spent several minutes memorizing the lay of the place and the variety of fragrances. Then she moved to her favorite flower and bent to examine it in detail. The calla lily was tall and bright green as if in the warmth of spring, even though it was mid January. Hope vividly remembered planting the lily with the help of her mother before the fever came. Oddly enough, though, the plant had never bloomed. It had been growing for twelve years, and yet she had not seen one flower. It always broke her heart to see a spring come and go with no hint of a bloom even beginning. This year, she fervently hoped that it would bloom, but in her heart she knew this was pointless, since it had never done so before, no matter how hard she'd wished. With a resigned sigh Hope patted the green leaves and then quietly left the greenhouse.

She had just closed the gate to the garden and was about to head off to where the carriage awaited, when one of her servants bumped into her.

"Sorry Hope," Claire quickly apologized to her friend and mistress. The girl's face was flushed red, as if she had been running.

"What's wrong?" Hope had known Claire for most of her life and the two girls, who were about the same age, were close friends despite the difference in rank.

"Your father wants to leave and he sent me after you; he seems to be in an awful hurry."

"Thank you Claire," the two girls embraced and whispered their goodbyes all over again. Hope started to walk away and then turned around as if changing her mind, "Oh, Claire," the serving girl turned around as well, "I doubt I'll be gone long, but if I am gone though the spring, will you send word if my calla lily blooms?"

"I'll make sure to do just that, my lady, goodbye," the girls smiled at each other and then went their separate ways.

"There you are," Jonathan looked worried. "We've been ready to leave for over half an hour. Where have you been?"

"I was at the greenhouse. Why didn't you send for me sooner?" Hope said.

"I thought you knew when we were leaving; I didn't think you needed to be reminded after all of the excitement you've shown lately."

"Sorry, I guess I lost track of time."

"Obviously!"

"I said I'm sorry," Hope felt indignant at her father's sudden outburst.

"Just get in."

The first day of travel did not go well. Hope and her father continually bickered, and that night was not pleasant, since the only inn they could find was run down. The next day went by much more smoothly. Even though the inn had been unsavory, the night's rest had been sound and both father and daughter had woken up refreshed. The days passed with fewer and fewer arguments, and Hope found it rather relaxing to look out at the ever changing landscape as the carriage bumped along in silence. At first they had to climb out of the valley that Hope had grown up in, and then they moved though mountain country only to come down out of it a few days later. Hope found that she rather liked the mountains and their tall fir trees, and was a little woeful when they had to come out of the high country. At the foot of the mountains, rolling hills moved along to the horizon like frozen waves covered in tall dry grasses. Winter had not been kind up in the mountains and a chill wind blew sharply off the snow capped peaks to sweep across the barren landscape carrying with it the scent of pines.

It had taken ten days to arrive at the Duke's house in Spain and Hope was rather grateful when she saw the mansion looming before them. The long trip had finally come to its destination and now it was time to rest. The party was another five days away, and this allowed Hope some measure of recuperation after the journey.

The carriage came to a stop in front of a vast building. The mansion sprawled with several wings sticking out at odd angles. The outside of the building was covered in stucco and was painted a cream color accented by the natural browns of the wood used to frame the doors and windows. Hope noted that if the grass was green, the mansion may have appeared more impressive, but as it was, the color of the dead grass and the house were practically the same.

Several steps led up to the double doors of the main entrance to the mansion, and as a footman came around to help Hope out of the carriage, one of the doors opened. Down the steps came a stately looking man of aging years. Hope guessed that he was in his late forties or early fifties. He was tall and had a swash of silvering black hair. He wore a neatly trimmed beard and his hair was fading at the temples. The man's age also showed around his midriff, with the characteristic small gain of weight brought on by a slowing metabolism. He, none-the-less, wore a bright smile and his blue eyes twinkled with mirth. He stopped at about the middle step and waited patiently as the two visitors ascended to his level.

"Good day, I am Duke Fortunez and I extend to you a hearty welcome to my estate. Thank you for coming, Jonathan," the man turned to address Hope's father.

"It is our pleasure," Jonathan said.

"And this lovely señorita is?" the Duke inquired.

"My daughter, Hope," Jonathan answered.

"Ah, Hope, it is an honor to meet you," the Duke said stepping forward to kiss her hand.

"Like wise, it is my pleasure to meet you," she replied demurely.

The Duke smiled, "You're too kind. I hope you enjoy the Ball that I will be holding."

"I'm sure I will. Thank you for inviting me in the first place."

"When I talked with your father earlier, and learned that he had a daughter, I insisted upon meeting you." A look passed between the Duke and her father, and Hope wondered for a minute if there had been other motives in bringing her here, but she had no time to ponder over this as the Duke swiftly moved along.

"Please, come in, come in," the Duke escorted them inside. The entrance hall was vast and richly decorated. A thick woven carpet covered the center of the marbled floor. Coat hangers and wardrobes stood here and there along the walls, eagerly waiting to be filled. Two mirrors hung opposite each other at the midway point of the hall on opposite walls. Sconces with burning candles illuminated portraits that hung on the walls in between the receptacles for coats and cloaks. The lords and ladies portrayed in the paintings were all richly dressed and bore the crest of the Duke's house. In the wall directly across from the entrance was an archway that led out into a hallway. There was another wall directly though the archway, showing that the hallway split off to either side, instead of running straight forward. Hanging on this wall though the archway was another painting. It was the only one that Hope had seen so far, that wasn't a portrait. Instead the painting depicted a small private apple orchard with a broad walkway leading between the two rows of trees and there was a three tiered fountain in the middle of the whole scene. The painting struck something in Hope's heartstrings that she could not put her finger on, but all the same it prompted a tear to course down her check. She could never later tell if this was out of sadness or joy.

Promptly a servant approached them and took their cloaks, while another servant brought in their luggage. The Duke then lead them deeper into his house, bringing them to a well furnished sitting room where a tea was set out in anticipation of their arrival.

"Please sit down," the Duke offered Hope a chair seated next to the table that held the tea and array of food.

"Thank you," Hope said taking the seat. The chair was deeply cushioned and perfectly positioned for picking out exactly what she wanted to snack on. The smells that rose from the various scones and pastries were mouth watering. Hope methodically set about choosing only the most appealing pastries; slathering several of her choices with ample amounts of jelly that also came in several varieties. The tea was warm and fragrant and mixed with a little cream and sugar it was perfect. While Hope indulged herself, Jonathan and the Duke exchange small talk. Their words flickered on the edges on her consciousness, but her thoughts were drifting back to the painting in the entrance way. What was it about that orchard scene that had so obviously moved her?

"Hope, Hope," startled out of her thoughts, Hope turned to see her father calling to her from where he sat. Another serving man had come in while she was day dreaming and had announced that there were some dignitaries that were eager to meet the ambassador and his lovely daughter. Hope quickly sat up and brushed the stray crumbs off of the front of her fine cotton dress. Little worries skirted though her mind concerning whether her hair looked all right and whether or not her dress was flattering. She had never really met too many people other than those in her home town. She had stayed home a lot, so she had never really had the chance. She soon found that her fears were groundless. The dignitaries only wanted to say hello to her, flash their practiced smiles, and then dive into pointless talks with her father.

"Hello señorita," Hope had almost not been paying attention and she snapped her head up quickly to see a young looking man leaning toward her. He was probably in his late twenties, she decided, and he did not seem at all her type. He held himself with an arrogance that tainted the very air around him. He dripped with self importance, and over all appeared to be very annoying. Looking quickly to her father, she saw that same illusive look pass between him and the Duke. What was going on?

With her annoyance flaming on her face she said, "My name is Hope."

"Well then, Hope, I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Hardly; I still do not know your name," Hope was very annoyed that nobody was telling her what was going on.

"Oh, how forgetful of me, my name is Armando."

"Hello Armando," she said sharply hoping to cut off any more conversation. The man was obviously not smart enough to notice her dismissal, and continued to talk away. Hope put on her most polite smile, and promptly tuned the world out. With a small measure of satisfaction, she noticed a look of annoyance cross Armando's face. He had finally caught on to the fact that she wasn't paying attention and turned around on his heel and stormed off like so many arrogant men do. This made Hope's smile widen and she congratulated herself on her victory.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hope noticed that her father was coming over. "Well, how did your talk go with Armando go?"

"Oh rather well," Hope gloated.

"Then why did he leave?"

"Oh I think he remembered that he had some pressing business elsewhere," Hope smoothly lied.

"What a shame, I was hoping that you two could spend more time together."

_Together? Together! What is he thinking! I wouldn't spend another minute with that snake if my life depended on it! _Hope thought, appalled at what her father had suggested.

"Oh well, it's probably just as well."

"Yes, I'm sure everything is fine. It's getting on to be late, if you don't mind Father; I think I'll retire now."

"That's fine, goodnight child."

"Goodnight." She then turned to the Duke, "May I inquire as to my room?"

"Oh, of course, here, I'm sure Derrick can show you the way." The Duke pointed to a servant who was patiently awaiting any kind of command.

"Thank you," Hope turned and left the room, lead by the servant to her room.

* * *

**AN: I do not claim to know Spanish or French geography, and the scenery that I have chosen is purely form my head. I have no idea what the southern reaches of France and the northern reaches of Spain are like. I just find this setting to fit my story, so I'm using it. Please don't criticize. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Music drifted throughout the Duke's house as the ball got under full swing. Hope was having a wonderful day. That morning she had awoken happy and refreshed. The afternoon had been spent in giddy anticipation of that evening's festivities. Once it had come time for the party, Hope had dressed herself in her best gown and had walked arm in arm with her father to the ballroom in the Duke's house.

The first piece opened on soft chords played by the flutes and echoed by the trumpets of the small in-house orchestra. They were warmly greeted by Duke Fortunez who stood next to the doors receiving guests. As the opening chords moved onto the main theme, Jonathan politely asked his daughter to dance. Agreeing, Hope took her father's hand and they immediately started dancing.

The waltz grew to a lively pace and many instruments played out various themes that were seamlessly tied together by the main one. Hope found that she loved dancing. It was so much fun spinning around in circles and moving to the complicated steps. She had always known that she liked it, but she never had the occasion to regularly practice. Even though this dance was with her father, Hope found that she rather liked it.

The music built itself up to a climax on the trumpets and then subdued back to the flutes only to came back suddenly and ended with the trumpets uproariously leading the way. With hardly a pause in between, the next song started up.

Hope danced with her father for the next few songs. As she danced, she surveyed the crowd which had grown thicker in the time that she had been there. She noticed that many of the people present she had met on the day that she had arrived. _Oh no!_ With a sinking feeling she also noticed that Armando was there.

He started to walk toward where she and her father danced. His advance was cut off by the Duke though, "May I have this next dance?"

"Yes, of course!" Hope quickly agreed, smiling inwardly when she saw the look of disappointment on Armando's face.

The song was a beautiful dialogue between a guitar and the orchestra. The guitar would ask a musical question and the orchestra would answer with a flourish every time. The piece was very Spanish and Hope thought it kind of fitting that she danced to it with a Spanish Duke.

After that song, the Duke respectfully moved on and much to Hope's dismay, she was caught up by Armando.

"So, how have you been, señorita?" Politely he tried to strike up a conversation, but Hope only gave him a half answer trying to concentrate on anything but him. Her eyes constantly swept the crowd, looking at everything but her dance partner.

The song continued to swirl the two around the room at a dragging pace. How much longer can this song be? Hope desperately thought, wishing it would end quickly with all of her might.

As Hope's eyes moved throughout the gathering, she noticed that a tall, dark, and handsome man had just entered. Curious, Hope looked at a grandiose grandfather clock that was set in a corner of the large room. It was ten past ten, what would a guest be doing just showing up? The ball would be over in two hours and there was little point in coming if one couldn't be there for long. Hope used this new arrival as fodder for her thoughts in order to pass the time. Once the song was over, she quickly thanked Armando, trying to remember her manners, and then went in search of her father.

/\/\/\

Roque was rather happy that night. The day had gone surprisingly well and to cap it all off, he was on his way to a ball held by his old friend, the Duke.

Quietly he entered the Duke's house and walked to the ballroom. It always made him sad to come to a party that had started long before his arrival, but he had no choice. He dare not come any earlier for reasons that he shuddered to think about. No it had to be exactly ten o'clock.

It took him all of ten minutes to reach the room already filled with guests and sort out the Duke's face. "Hola, Duke."

"Hola, how's your year been?" the Duke asked politely.

"Not bad, thank you" Roque said, "just more of the usual."

"Whatever the usual for you is," the Duke laughed jokingly.

"Funny, funny," Roque said sarcastically. _If only he knew_.

Casually Roque scanned the crowd. There were several people here that he knew. The current dance being played was a waltz and he looked on appreciatively as the dancers moved eloquently with the music. Then one set of dancers caught his eye. The man was obviously Armando, a young and haughty fellow only a few years older than himself. The girl on the other hand, was a complete stranger. She was clearly younger than he, and she was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was a bright auburn that had been done up in an exquisite bun, allowing one curled lock to fall across her shoulder. Her skin was like a porcelain-doll's, and a light pink blush had been painted onto her high cheek bones. Her eyes shone with a green fire that was tinged with a coppery light. The gown she wore was the color of a deep pink rose and it flowed with her every movement, heightening the grace of her every step. Her beauty had stunned Roque and he didn't even realize that he had been ignoring the Duke.

"Roque."

"W-what?" Roque turned back to the Duke trying to shake off his daze.

"I asked if you were enjoying yourself."

"Oh, yes I am."

"Is there something wrong?" the Duke queried.

"No. Nothing of importance anyway," Roque was still trying to shake the image of the mystery girl from him mind. Unable to help himself, he looked back at the dancing couple and the beautiful girl. As the song ended the girl quickly hurried away from Armando and this prompted a smug smile to cross Roque's face, although he didn't know why.

/\/\/\

Hope and her father quietly walked though the Duke's garden that was adjacent to the ballroom. Subdued light faintly illuminated walkways as they wound through the foliage and fountain displays. Statues of white marble stood here and there amongst the plants and trees. Even though it was January, quite a few plants had leaves out. There were no flowers but the displays of candles and lanterns were just as beautiful.

"Are you having a good time my daughter?" Jonathan asked Hope quietly.

"Yes, I do believe I am." Hope answered cheerily.

"Have you met anybody special?"

"Special, in what way Father?"

"Oh, just someone you might not have known before," he was obviously trying to avoid saying something out in the open.

"Not really," Hope gave her father a curious look, "it depends on what you mean…"

"Oh, never mind."

"Never mind what?"

"Never mind," Jonathan said more firmly and Hope let it drop.

Slowly they meandered their way back to the entrance to the ballroom. Steps led up to the doors that stood open allowing guests to come and go as they pleased. They were about to mount the stairs when they were pulled aside by the Duke.

"Jonathan, Hope, I have somebody I wanted you to meet," the Duke indicated a man standing next to him.

With mild surprise Hope noticed that this was the stranger she had seen arriving late to the ball. With a closer look Hope noted that his dark brown hair was cut short like so many men of the time found fashionable. His skin was light colored and his eyes were as rich a brown as his hair. Muscles rippled under a green velvet doublet and he wore black hose and leather boots that reached to mid-calf. He held himself confidently and there was no hint of the arrogance that so marked Armando. Instead, this man held himself with dignity and pride. He was younger than Armando and Hope thought him rather handsome indeed.

"This is my good friend the Baron Roque," the Duke formally introduced the man. "His barony is to the east of here and I enjoy his company here in my land." The Duke then turned more to face the Baron, "Roque, these are the French Ambassador Jonathan and his lovely daughter Hope," in spite of herself, Hope blushed when the Baron politely leaned forward and kissed her hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you," Roque's voice was warm and medium in range. His eyes looked into Hope's and there was a curious light there.

"As are we my lord," Jonathan replied respectfully not noticing or ignoring the fact that Roque had been talking to Hope.

A male voice suddenly rose from somewhere behind the Duke's shoulder to call, "My Lord, Duke and señor Jonathan, my friend here has a most profound question. Would you care to discuss?"

"Of course!" the Duke answered. "Jonathan shall we?" and with that Hope's father and the Duke walked over to the man who had called them and his waiting friend. They may not have known it when they left, but now Hope and Roque were left awkwardly alone.

They stood quietly next to each other for a moment or two, and then Roque's clear voice broke the silence, "Oh, isn't it a beautiful night?" He looked up at the sky and sighed pleasantly. "The stars are so bright! It almost makes me feel free!" Hope gave him a questioning look then followed his gaze and shrugged indifferently.

As Hope looked at the stars she contemplated something that had been nagging at her for a while. _Why's Papa being so cruel? Leaving me with all of these men and…_

"That dress looks lovely on you," Roque's comment broke her thoughts and suddenly it all clicked. Her father was purposely leaving her alone with men. Now all of those sly looks that passed between him and the Duke made sense. Even that comment that had been made as to whether she had met someone "special" was clear now. They were parading her in front of all these men in the hopes that she'd give in and chose one. Well she would not be married off so easily! No, she could play this game too, and she was determined to win.

For a brief moment Hope's delicate features contorted in rage. _How could he? How dare he?_

The Baron just happened to look down at that moment and caught the look on Hope's face. "What's wrong?"

Hope glared at Roque_. How could I be so stupid? This man's obviously in on it too. They're all in on it, everyone! Well I'll show them!_ Hope gave Roque a quick smile and excused herself trying to remain polite and not blow up at him. She tried her best not to show her anger and forced herself to walk away calmly.

Baron Roque was left floundering alone. _Was it something I said?_

The music continued to play as the night wore on. Hope found a certain satisfaction in watching the dismayed faces of her father and the Duke. She had made a point of dancing with only married men ever since the run in with the Baron. Now this wasn't as bad as it sounds because the dances were purely honorary, but it completely foiled Jonathan's plans. There was no way that she could meet a potential beau.

The band announced the last song at a quarter to twelve and Hope again danced with her father. "Have you been all right tonight?" Jonathan asked.

"What a silly question, of course I have been," Hope said using her most girly little voice that always made her father believe her.

"Just making sure, because Baron Roque said that you seemed upset," Jonathan genuinely sounded concerned.

"I might have been a little abrupt, but I didn't mean to be rude, and I'm sorry if I was."

"You don't need to apologize to me; I think you should say it to the Baron."

"Yes father," Hope agreed.

The song soon came to an end and they went in search of Roque on Jonathan's request. The hallway that led back to the main doors of the Duke's house was thickly packed with retiring guests and it took them several minuets to find the Baron in the crowd. He was standing in a small sitting room that adjoined the hallway like an alcove. The Duke was talking quietly to him and they both looked up as Hope and Jonathan entered.

"Ah, Jonathan, Hope," the Duke acknowledged them.

"We would like to say thank you señor Duke. We have enjoyed our stay here tremendously and we are grateful for your hospitality," Jonathan sincerely said.

"De nada. I heard that you'll be leaving tomorrow?"

"Yes, we really must be getting back to France." Jonathan replied mournfully. "We have enjoyed ourselves though and it was a pleasure meeting so many people, including you, Baron Roque."

"As it was for me señor Jonathan," Roque replied inclining his head respectfully. "I really must be leaving, though, so if you'll excuse me, I'll be going now."

"Wait," Hope's voice quaked, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for my behavior earlier this evening, I wasn't meaning to be rude." Jonathan gave his daughter an approving nod.

"No offense was taken, you simply startled me. Now I really should be going, adios." Roque nodded to them all and then quickly left the room.

"You'll have to forgive him," the Duke smiled in Roque's direction. "He has a very demanding schedule and he really can't stay."

"Does he always do that? I mean come late and leave in a hurry," Hope asked.

"Hope! That's hardly an appropriate question!" Jonathan feigned shock.

"It's perfectly ok," the Duke assured, "and yes he always does. Ever since he took over the barony I've only seen him show up at events precisely at ten and leave precisely at twelve, never any earlier and definitely no latter."

"Odd," Jonathan said in spite of his earlier comment.

"It's his way, and there's no point in us disturbing him, so we just let him be. He seems to get a long well enough though."

"But still odd," Hope reiterated.

"Maybe so, but it's none of our business," Jonathan closed the discussion. "Well, we really should be getting some sleep before our departure tomorrow, so goodnight Duke."

"Goodnight," the Duke replied. The three went their separate ways, the Duke going to see the rest of the guests safely off, and Hope and Jonathan to their respective rooms. Hope quickly undressed and put on her nightgown and as soon as her head touched the pillow, she was asleep.

* * *

**AN: I hope that I described Roque well. I tried to make him seem really handsome, but I suppose we all have our own opinions of what "handsome" is. Please review...PLEASE!**


	4. Chapter 4

_H__is brown eyes bored in to hers and his lips felt soft upon her hand. Listening to his voice was like listening to the finest music, so rich and so enrapturing. It felt so comfortable to have him stand by her side. He seemed so strong and so confident._

_Suddenly the perfect image was shattered by a vision of a monstrous beast rearing in the stead of the man. For a moment the two seemed to be one and the same, but then the man disappeared as if he was absorbed by the beast standing before her. The beast lifted his ugly head to the sky and roared in a deep, awful bellow oddly tinged with a deep sorrow. In terror she screamed and took a step back. Then she was falling, falling as if through an endless hole in the ground…_

With a start, Hope sat bolt upright in bed. Fitful sleep had made her groggy and her eyes felt heavy and unwilling to open. The dream of Roque turning into a beast had reoccurred over and over again that night, but it was the first time that she had fallen. She hated falling dreams, they always put her on edge for the rest of the day.

Wearily she looked to the window in the comfortable room given to her by the Duke. With dismay, she realized that is was still dark outside and so dawn was probably still far off. Sighing heavily, she laid down trying her best to fall back asleep.

Hope tossed and turned, but no matter how she tried, she could not get comfortable again. It also didn't help that the only thing she could think about was the Baron. He seemed nice enough and she had been a little rude, maybe she should give him a second chance.

_Why can't I stop thinking about him? I'll never get to sleep this way. I've got to think of something else! _Hope told herself, but to no avail.

After what seemed like ages she finally fell back into slumber.

The dawn came early, or so it felt, and Hope refused to get up. A persistent knocking at her door eventually forced her out of bed and she shuffled over to the door to open it. "Hope, it is long past time for you to be getting up," Jonathan's voice was stern and upset.

"Father!" Hope chided, "It is hardly appropriate for a man to come knocking at a woman's door, even if I am your daughter."

"Right now I could care less about appropriateness."

"Father!"

"Don't 'father' me, just do as I say and get ready to leave," Jonathan seemed to be angry this morning and Hope surmised that it might have something to do with her behavior that previous night or from the amount of drink that he had.

Whatever the matter, Hope decided that it would be best to obey him. She was already out of bed, so there was little point in going back and the day wouldn't just wait for her to get ready. Drowsily she got dressed and started to pack.

A servant came and told her when breakfast was ready. At the mention of food, Hope suddenly realized that she was desperately hungry and hurried after the servant to join her father and the Duke who were already seated and eating at a small table in the dinning room. "Good to see you up and moving," Jonathan said petulantly.

"I'm almost finished packing Father. I've only got to put in a few more things and then I'll be done," Hope informed him defensively.

"Good, now eat your breakfast."

"Yes Papa," Hope didn't argue this since her stomach was already in protest.

The Duke and Jonathan continued to talk in urgent voices while they finished their food. Hope casually listened not really paying much attention, but sensing that something might be amiss. Most of their talk didn't even register in her mind and when the subject turned to politics she promptly tuned out; she had learned a long time ago that politics were not nearly as interesting as a good book. Since she had not been paying attention, it came as a shock to her when Jonathan stood and exclaimed, "Mon Dieu! If this is truly the case then it is imperative that I get home as soon as possible."

"What's going on Papa?" Hope asked concerned.

"Come my daughter we must make all haste," he was already up and headed to his rooms where his luggage sat ready.

"What's going on?"

"There's a political situation back in France and your father is one of the best men to take care of it," the Duke had a creased brow and looked like he was concentrating hard on something.

"What situation? Is anything wrong?" but the Duke had already gotten up and left the room. Obviously something big was going on but nobody seemed to have the time to talk about it.

For the rest of the morning Hope tried her best to wring the information out of somebody, anybody, but no one seemed willing to talk.

The carriage that awaited them stood just outside the doors of the Duke's house. A footman was loading the last of the luggage as Hope stood by her Father exchanging their farewells with the Duke.

"Well, I certainly hope that your trip back is pleasant, all things considered" the Duke was saying. "I have been honored to have you here and I pray we meet again soon."

"Thank you Duke, your hospitality is the best that I've ever received on my travels and I know Hope feels the same," said Jonathan.

"I do," Hope agreed. "I've really enjoyed my stay here and I hope we can come back soon, maybe for another one of those parties," Hope smiled impishly at the Spanish Duke.

"Your daughter is delightful," the Duke laughed to the French ambassador.

"She's also very sly and clever. I wonder sometimes where she ever got it from," Jonathan smiled at his daughter.

"Why I had the best teacher in the whole world, Papa. Thank you so much! You're a wonderful example for the children of our town!" Hope transferred her mischievous smile to her father.

"Children," Jonathan stated as if that explained everything. "Well, goodbye Duke," he respectfully took the man's hand in a brief shake.

"Goodbye Jonathan and good luck."

"Indeed," the men nodded at each other smiling gravely.

"Farewell to you too, señorita," the Duke's tone lighted as he turned to Hope.

"Thank you Monsieur," Hope smiled back. "Bye," she said over her shoulder as she turned with her father and they hurriedly walked to the carriage. With a last wave goodbye the two climbed in and the carriage pulled away.

It was afternoon by the time they left the Duke's house and as they rode north through the day, they had an excellent view of the western sky as it got closer to night. The Sun sank lower to the horizon as the evening drew to a close. When it came to the point that the Sun was almost fully down, the lingering rays of light seemed to glow in the grass of the hills and it looked like they were set ablaze. The ruddy light slowly faded and the world gradually darkened.

Just as the darkness was steeling over the land, they came upon a small town with an inn. "Do you want to stop?" the driver asked back over his shoulder through a little window in the front of the coach.

"Not unless we don't have another choice," Jonathan stated. "I absolutely must get home and I'd prefer not to stop tonight."

Hope looked at her father in surprise, "You don't want to stop?"

"Not particularly."

"Why?"

"I said that already, I want to get home."

"Come on Papa, you know how long of a journey it is, we have to stop to rest somewhere."

"Yes, but not necessarily right now. We can still go on for a while," Jonathan seemed firm in his decision.

"But what about the horses, surely you don't intend to ride them all night and tomorrow," Hope seemed shocked at her father's brash idea.

"If need be, yes. We must get home; France needs me."

"Why Papa, what's going on? No one's given me a straight answer all day," Hope complained.

"There's a political matter of critical importance," Jonathan said brushing the question off.

"I know that, but what's going on?" Hope demanded for the zillionth time that day.

"I'll tell you when we get home."

"Father!"

"I'll tell you when we get home," the man's voice was firmer and held that tone that brought most of their arguments to an end. Still frustrated, Hope continued to fume over the injustice of not being told anything, but she kept her silence. The carriage bounced along and passed the village by. The last of the light faded from the west and plunged the world into complete darkness. Clouds could barely be seen scudding across the sky and accumulating until the last star was chased from sight. The air temperature grew colder as a brisk wind picked up; bringing it with it the first wisps of a fog.

The road became rockier and rockier as they moved farther from civilization. The darkness forced the driver to light a lantern at the front of the coach. As the night drew on, the fog thickened until it was very dense and hard to see through.

Hope fruitlessly tried to get some answers out of Jonathan, but the man would not speak. Occasionally he'd say something to the fact that it was urgent that they get home, but nothing as to the cause of this urgency. The hours passed and Hope grew to be drowsy, finally giving into sleep when it became apparent that no matter how she tried her eyelids were determined to stay closed.

She had no idea of how much time past as she slept, but she was aware that it was much later in the night when she awoke with a jolt. The carriage had just run over a stone and the sudden jerk had startled her from sleep. Jonathan moaned as he sat up straighter in his seat and Hope deduced that he had fallen asleep as well.

"Sorry," the driver called back, "the road's kind of hard to see."

This certainly was not the last jolt of the night. The road only continued to worsen as the rocks in the path became more like big stones and then it seemed like they were dodging boulders.

"I don't remember it being this rocky Father," Hope said confused. She also wasn't very happy; all of the bumps and jolts were starting to bruise her bum.

"Nor do I," Jonathan admitted. "Driver where are we?" he demanded through the little window that allowed conversation between the driver and passengers.

"I'm honestly not sure," the driver confessed. "It's so dark and foggy that for all I know, we might have taken a wrong turn."

"What?" Jonathan seemed to explode. "We're lost? We can't be! I have to get home. I absolutely must!" the strain in his voice showed that he was livid with rage.

"I'm sorry señor but we should really wait till morning to get our bearings."

"Absolutely out of the question! I must get home! We push on," Jonathan yelled at the driver like he was scolding a child.

"Father!" Hope exclaimed appalled, "You can't be serious. We must stop, if nothing else for our own safety. Just look outside," she indicated the fog, "there's no way we can continue in this."

Jonathan seemed to consider this for a moment. As the two in the coach bickered, the driver had slowed the horses and brought them to a stop. The ambassador finally noticed this and it only seemed to add to his fury. "I didn't say that you could stop! We keep going!" Jonathan insisted. A look of disappointment briefly crossed the driver's face and then they were off again.

_He's acting so thick! _Hope thought as she sat with her arms crossed, staring irritably out at the dark and misty night. _What does he think this is; a Roman highway? _

The road had steadily been growing steeper giving evidence to the fact that they had moved from the hills into the mountains. Along with the increasing number of large rocks, the path had also begun to show signs of disuse. Parts of it were grown over with ground hugging weeds and an occasional young fir tree or common aspen sprouted near the edge of the roadway.

"I really think we should stop. I'm sure we're going the wrong way," the driver called back over his shoulder.

"No, we press on," Jonathan voice seemed desperate.

"As you wish," the driver relented. Hope snorted at the stupidity of it all, and thankfully it was dark, because she knew that her father was giving her a very hard look at that moment. Another bump disturbed the coach, and they could feel the wheels tilt for a moment as they were rendered unstable.

"OK," with a shaky voice, Jonathan said, "maybe we should stop." At that moment, though, they hit an even bigger stone, and the carriage completely lost its balance. The coach toppled to one side as the other side was tossed violently into the air. Hope, who was sitting on the side that was headed for the ground, found that the door would not hold her weight, and she fell from the vehicle roughly hitting the ground at the side of the road. The side of the road was anything but flat, and Hope rolled with the slope of the land. The hit had dazed her, and she was not composed enough to stop herself from rolling. Consequently, she rolled right off a cliff. Vaguely she knew that she was falling, and the falling made her think of her dream that previous night. What scared her was that she knew this nightmare was real. She didn't even feel herself hit the ground for the shear fear of falling had already made her pass out.

Jonathan was violently thrown to the spot where his daughter had been, but as the carriage had come to a rest on its side, he stayed within it. The driver had also fallen from the vehicle, but he didn't roll like Hope did. Panic suffusing him, Jonathan scrambled from the carriage looking around desperately for his daughter. Distantly he took in the situation noticing that the horses were down and fidgeting, and the driver wasn't moving where he lay. His eyes frantically searched the scene over and over again, but he could see no trace of his daughter.

"Hope! Hope!" his voice was raged with fear as he called for his baby girl. "Hope!" but there was no answer. A moan came from somewhere, and he rushed toward the sound. It was only the driver, though, as he stirred where he lay. "Are you alright?" Jonathan bent to help the man up.

"Yeah, I think so, just sore in a few places, and my leg hurts," the driver sounded just as shaky as Jonathan.

"Did you see where Hope went?"

The driver looked into Jonathan's eyes and could see the worry and pain written there. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't."

Jonathan looked about scene for the millionth time that minute. "Where is she?" he demanded. "Where is she?" hiz voice dropped to a worry torn whisper. "Hope!" he called out again.

A wave of adrenaline rushed through the driver at the sound of desperation in Jonathan's voice, and he forgot the pain in his leg; he had to help him find Hope. He moved out searching intently for any sign of where she might have gone. "Ho! What's this?" he called Jonathan over. The ground at the side of the road near where the carriage went down was all torn up as if a body had fallen there and then rolled away. Following that track, the driver quickly found himself teetering at the edge of the cliff. Afraid of what he should say to Jonathan, the driver quickly pulled back and went silently to the worried man. The fog was so thick that even in the ten feet he had gone from the carriage he had lost sight of it.

"Well, what did you find?" Hope's father demanded. Still silent, the driver took a hold of Jonathan's arm and led him to the cliff. There he motioned for Jonathan to kneel beside him, and they felt with their hands in front of them.

The ground was covered in little stones that were very loose to the touch. Small plants crumbled as their dead stocks were crushed by the searching hands. It all seemed very plain and like any other expanse of ground. The searching hands went farther ahead as they continued to feel the ground. Suddenly though, there was no ground to feel. It was as if the ground just stopped a few feet in front of them. The searching hands took a closer investigation and felt that the ground did in fact end as a cliff would.

Jonathan crawled back from that awful realization and choked back sobs of grief. His Hope was gone… gone. "If I remember right," the driver whispered, "none of the…" he struggled to bring himself to say it, "cliffs are very tall around here." Jonathan didn't hear him, though; the only word he did hear was _cliff_. "I'm sure if we wait 'til morning—which is only a few hours away—I'm sure our sight will improve. Hey, maybe I'm wrong, maybe Hope's fine," the driver fervently hoped this last remark was true. Jonathan did not respond. Instead he broke down crying. Hope was all that he had left and he loved her more than he had ever told her, and now she was gone.

The driver instantly assessed Jonathan's mood and helped the French man back to where the carriage still lay on its side. He had Jonathan sit down while he attended the two horses getting them back up on their feet. With more strength than he thought he possessed the driver righted the coach and aided the ambassador into the back seat where he could sit in more comfort. Jonathan continued to cry, and the driver, not knowing what else to do, left him alone. The driver did a thorough check of the horses and found that they were all fine if not a bit shaken and scared. He checked on Jonathan again and found the man soundly asleep. With nothing better to do himself, the driver settled down to await the dawn.

* * *

**AN: Finally, I got this up! Took me long enough. And a special thanks goes to forgotten-muse08 who pestered me to get this up; without you I doubt I would have. :) Hoped you liked it and please, please, please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

Silence and fog; that's what the driver awoke to, but it's not what awoke him. A sharp pain throbbed in his leg, starting somewhere in his shin. He tried to stand up, but the instant he touched his foot to the ground his leg crumbled under him and he fell. Briefly he remembered the pain he had felt in the same leg the night before when he had been thrown from the carriage in the wreck.

Struggling to get back up, he leaned on the carriage for support. An ominous sounding groan came from the wood frame and the whole coach shuddered. A confused question came from inside and the driver realized that Jonathan was still in there asleep, or at least he had been asleep.

Keeping the weight off his hurt leg, the driver opened the carriage door. Jonathan was awake, but it didn't appear that he had been so for very long. "What happened? It felt like everything shifted," he complained.

"It did," the driver replied. "I don't know what's wrong, but it didn't sound good."

"Well, just to be on the safe side, I'm getting out," Jonathan did just that and stood up tall apparently stretching his back. Then he did a half turn as if to call over his shoulder, "Hope," he said absently. The driver guessed that he had intended to tell her to get out as well, but as soon as her name left his lips, he seemed to remember everything from the night before. His face fell and despair filled his eyes. Hope wasn't there.

For a while he just stood there appearing to be lost in his anguish. Then it seemed like he remembered something else and he shot forward toward the cliff. The driver panicked thinking that Jonathan was going to throw himself over. He tried to rush after the French man, intent on stopping him, but his leg hurt too much and he could only manage a painful hop. Jonathan reached the edge of the cliff and teetered for a moment, then dropped.

A wave of relief passed over the driver when he realized that Jonathan had not jumped over, but only dropped to his knees. He was now intently peering over the edge; his head flicking back and forth as if straining to see something. "Damn this fog!" Jonathan swore. "I can't see anything! Hope, are you there?" there was no answer.

"We'll just have to wait for it to clear out," the driver reasoned indicating the fog.

"But it could last all day!"

"I doubt it. It'll probably clear off here soon." The driver looked seriously at Jonathan, "I've driven through fogs like this before. They'll last through the night, but as soon as the sun gets at them, they run away. We just have to wait."

"I don't want to wait!"

"Do you think I do? I'm just as impatient as you are, but do we have a choice?"

"True," he seemed to consider their situation and then gave in. "We'll wait." After that Jonathan didn't speak and the driver didn't know how to breach the silence. Jonathan helped the driver back to the carriage and they sat down beside it.

Slowly the fog thinned, and they could see trees looming all around them, mainly big pines, but there were a few common aspens. The fog thinned even more and they could see that the place where they were sitting was fairly flat and boulders were strewn here and there. The scene abruptly stopped where the cliff cut everything off. From where they sat by the carriage, they could only see a sea of trees stretching away from the cliff. The fog was completely gone now and the sun shone through the risen clouds.

Jonathan was the first to get up and he wordlessly reached out to help up the driver whose name he had learned was David from the conversation they had held while waiting for the fog to lift. Unhurriedly they approached the cliff again, partially because of David's leg, but chiefly because both were afraid of what they were certain they would find. With a reluctant hesitancy, they both looked over the edge. Hope wasn't there.

Jonathan made a strangling sound in his throat and almost screamed, "Hope!" The desperation was clear in his voice. "Hope, where are you? Hope!" but again there was no reply. Jonathan crumbled into his despair and he started crying, falling to his knees. He couldn't lose Hope.

David could think of no words of comfort, so he placed his hand on Jonathan's shoulder. As he did so, Jonathan studied the cliff again. It didn't really seem all that high. If only he had some rope, he could scale it. As the thought came to him he jumped up startling the driver. _Rope! That's it! Every good carriage has rope and this is one of the Duke's. _He ran back to the carriage and threw open the door and eagerly he started searching under the seats. Rope, he had to find rope, but there was none.

He pointed this out to David and the man's face reddened in embarrassment. "I used it on my last trip and I must have forgotten to replenish the supplies. I'm sorry señor," he offered, feeling horrible at not being better prepared.

In frustration, Jonathan slammed the coach door shut. The crack that resounded from the vehicle silenced his anger immediately. "What was that?" Jonathan asked of no one in particular. A second groan emanated from somewhere beneath the carriage as if in answer. He dropped to the ground and peered underneath the vehicle. He swore and explained the situation to the driver, "The rear axle's broken. I'm surprised this box has been standing as long as it has. We're lucky it didn't collapse on us last night."

"We'll have to leave it here then," the driver said hobbling over to unhook the horses, a look of shear pain on his face.

"Here, let me do that," Jonathan insisted. The horses were still a little spooked from the night before and they nickered and jumped at his touch. There were only two of them, though, and Jonathan made quick work of unhooking them. The horses gratefully, it seemed, stepped away from the coach and Jonathan gently set the yoke that had been attached to them down. Apparently the horses were the only thing keeping the carriage together, because once it lost their support it collapsed, even with Jonathan's caution to keep it from doing so.

One of the horses, a chestnut mare, was still pretty skittish and the sound of the collapsing coach made her bolt. Jonathan tried to stop her, but she was too fast; the horse was gone. To be on the safe side, Jonathan quickly grabbed the other horse's reins and kept him in check. "Well, what do we do now?"

"We let her go. We don't have the means to go chasing after her all day. And I know you don't want to, but I say we get back to the Duke's as fast as we can."

"How can you even say that?" Jonathan was appalled at David's suggestion. "We have to find Hope!"

"I know, and we will, but I at least have to get down out of these mountains. I know it doesn't look it, but I hurt my leg real badly. I can't stay here. I need to get back and see a doctor. I know that sounds selfish, but a crippled man isn't going to do you any good in your search."

"You can ride out on this horse," Jonathan lamely suggested. He knew that the driver was right, but he didn't want to admit it, not yet. He had to find his daughter, he had to.

"You know that my leg won't allow me to ride very well. I'd still need help and you're not staying out here alone," the driver said very pointedly. "The best chance you have of helping Hope is to get back to the Duke's and organize a search party. If you stay here just wandering about, you may very well get hurt and that's not going to help Hope in the slightest. Our best chance is to get back down to the Duke's."

Jonathan aimlessly looked around him casting out for a reason, any reason, to stay. Finally, he gave in and agreed that the driver was probably right. "Here, let me help you," he sighed resignedly as he hefted David onto the horse. He looked one last time around him, fixing the scene firmly in his mind. The tall and full pine trees, the skinny and quaky aspens, the road and it's randomly spaced rocks, the awful cliff, the sea of trees below, and the mountains ahead rising to touch the sky, all was fixed in his memory. He would not forget where to come back; he refused to even think about forgetting. He could tell that David was impatient to go, he was evidently in a lot of pain, and Jonathan also knew that it was time to set out. They turned down hill and started back to the Duke's, not looking back.

/\/\/\

The world was still. The heavy fog dampened all sound and weighed like an oppressive blanket over the land. Trees and rocks could only just be seen through the mist, which seemed to glow with a weird half light. The effect easily created the feeling that one was alone in the world.

The odd light helped in no way, shape, or form to ease Hope's headache. In fact, it only made it worse. Gingerly, she sat up wincing as the pain in her head made her dizzy. She looked around her, straining in vain to see through the fog. A slight breeze swirled the mist revealing some of her surroundings, and she realized that none of it was familiar. _Where am I?_ She thought, trying to clear her head.

She pushed herself into a standing position using a nearby tree for support. Her head swirled again and she leaned heavily against the tree to keep from falling over. In her mouth lay a very metallic taste, and she vaguely wondered if she had bitten her tongue in the recent past. Her breath came shallowly and with a sharp jab of pain. It hurt so badly to breathe, that she also wondered if she had a few bruised or broken ribs.

The fog seemed to slightly dissipate and Hope took the chance to look at the scenery more closely. She was standing in a pine forest interspersed with a few aspens. There was underbrush that she couldn't identify, thickly packed in between the trees where the sun actually broke through the over head canopy of branches. All of this was spread out in front of her. Impulsively she looked behind her, expecting to see more forest. Instead, she gasped as she came face to face with a rock wall.

The sudden intake of oxygen made her head swirl and her chest hurt, so she had to lean against the tree again. Her mind silently shrieked at the immensity of the cliff. Its top was lost in the mists and her imagination made it seem much taller than it actually was. She had to get away, she knew that much. She may not have remembered anything from the day before, but something about the rock repelled her away from it. She could see herself falling from that great height and that scared her. Desperately she pushed away from the awful cliff.

She didn't like being alone. Since she couldn't remember why she was alone, she was only scared all the more. Hope looked around her in fear, seeing potential enemies rising out of the mists in every direction, but her fear of the cliff was stronger and she forced herself to move. The fog seemed to brush her skin with clammy fingers and a brief image of ghosts reaching for her flashed through her mind.

Heedlessly, Hope rushed into the trees. The heavy dew that sat on every plant quickly soaked through her clothing and she felt a chill seep into her bones. The cold air was hard on her hurt lungs and it didn't help that within just a few moments she was breathing hard.

A branch caught on her outer skirt, which was more like an apron, and tore a hole in it. Frustrated, she stopped to examine the tear. The effort of trying to focus made her head spin and she had to lean against the very tree that had caught at her skirt. She had no needle or thread so she couldn't do anything about it, but she was still upset that she had been so reckless. Hope continued through the pines being more careful to keep the tear from getting worse or receiving another. She ducked this way and that to avoid branches which made her head hurt worse since she had to move so much.

As she walked through the forest, she had no notion of time. Time seemed to be suspended somewhere out in the fog and all the world was frozen, except for Hope. She didn't even realize the forest had changed until she was standing right on top of a road that cut through it. She didn't know whether she should follow it or not, and if she did, she didn't know which way to go. Uphill would surely take her deeper into the mountains and downhill would most likely bring her back out near the Duke's. Now why had she remembered that? Who was the Duke? Oh that's right; she had been staying at the house of Duke Fortunez with her father. She could vaguely see the Duke's face in her mind and she remembered how much fun she had had while at his house. The memory also made her think about her loneliness again. _Why am I alone and where am I?_ But these were questions that she couldn't answer. Each time she tried to grab at a potential answer the thought slipped away like an elusive eel.

Trying to focus on the road in the weird light of the fog made her head hurt again, and she delicately touched a spot just above her right eye where most of the pain came from. It felt very tender and she winced partly at the pain and partly at the feeling of crusted blood over a large bump under her fingers. She must have hit her head really hard and she guessed that she might have a concussion which would explain why she couldn't remember anything. Reassured that she wasn't going insane, Hope tried to concentrate on the road again. Downhill would take her back to the Duke's; she remembered that now, and uphill? Well, she didn't know where that would take her, so common sense stood to reason that she should go down. Yet, something beckoned to her from uphill. She didn't know what it was. It may have been nothing more than curiosity, but whatever it was, its call was strong and she couldn't ignore it. After considering it for a moment longer, she followed the road uphill.

Hope spent hours following the road, but since time was of no moment to her, she didn't realize this.

The fog still hung thickly about, and at times Hope wondered if she was still following the road. For indeed, the road was more like a track that had been long out of use, and in the fog it seemed to disappear. She didn't know why she struggled to follow the path. It would have been so much easier to turn around and go downhill, but whatever was calling her was still there. It was like a slight tug at the back of her mind. Each time she looked behind her, down the mountain, it was there pulling her back. Whatever it was, it drove her on like a persistent shepherd.

The world was silent. The only sounds that Hope could discern were the sounds of her own shallow breathing and walking. The fog was still around, but she could tell that it was lifting. All the same, it was still eerily quiet and this set her on edge. She didn't even realize that she was straining her ears to catch the faintest of sounds.

Snap! A twig brook somewhere in the brush at the side of the road and Hope jumped ten feet into the air. Whatever it was, it was coming toward her and the thought sent her heart pounding. Her lungs were in agony from her fast and heavy breathing. Her splitting headache came back all at once, and she saw colors swirl before her eyes. A wave of nausea swept over her and left her shaking. Trees were becoming her friends today; they were so convenient to lean against.

She tried to laugh at herself, at her fear, when she saw the rabbit bound across the road, but her heart was beating too fast and it hurt to laugh. It took several minuets for her to calm down her breathing and pulse and when she did continue, it was with caution.

The fog lifted more quickly now, and she could see the feeble rays of the sun struggling to break through. As the light gradually warmed the air, sounds came back to the forest, small sounds at first; a breath of air through the pine boughs, the chirp of a bird in an aspen, the whisper of a leaf falling from a tree; that sort of thing. Yet, at every little sound Hope jumped, still startled from her encounter with the bunny. With each jump, though, she jarred her ribs and head which made them hurt that much more.

Then the sun burst forth, breaking up the clouds. With it came the rest of the sounds normally found in the woods. Birds sang in multitudes; squirrels chattered and jumped form tree to tree; and sticks snapped as wild animals moved about. The swarm of sounds at first made Hope hesitant, but when she thought about it, she realized how pointless this was. She was pretty sure that no bird or squirrel or rabbit was going to hurt her and neither could the sounds, so she should have nothing to worry about.

The warmth of the sun stirred the air and everything felt refreshed like it so often does right after a spring rain. It smelled like it had just rained too, with that damp, clean earth scent. Dew sparkled in the light, and Hope was struck by the beauty of the woods. Half in a dream, she strolled along the track. She silently rejoiced that at last she was on an adventure, admittedly not the kind of adventure that she had always read about and dreamt of, but still an adventure. Oh, how little she knew about what kind of adventure she was on.

The day was pleasant and Hope enjoyed her hike, except for when her headache or ribs bothered her. In the bright morning light she could see that the road she followed ran parallel to the cliff that she had laid beside earlier that morning. In the distance, she could see that the cliff grew taller and became quite a foreboding escarpment. She could also see that both the cliff and road took a sharp turn, hemming her in. Curious, yet oddly reluctant to see what was around the corner, Hope walked very slowly enjoying the forest around her.

_Why am I going uphill?_ The question that had been at the back of her head for a while now came back to the forefront. _It'd be so much easier to go downhill._ She stopped and started to turn around. That odd pulling sensation came back and she glanced uphill, then downhill, and then uphill again. _But then again, if I turn around now, I'll never know what's there, will I?_ That decided it, Hope pressed on and hesitantly entered into the shadow of the cliff that still made her uneasy, and turned the corner.

The spacing between the trees had been fairly decent and so allowed her to see semi-well in all directions. When she had fully turned the corner, though, something that she hadn't seen was revealed. For a few paces ahead of her, the trees were spaced much like they had been, and the cliff was maybe twenty paces away. Then she could see that everything closed in. The cliff came closer to the road and the trees grew more thickly almost as if they were planted to form a wall. The effect was much like that of a hallway and Hope found that she was unwilling to enter. The path must have taken another turn, because she could not see where the passageway came out.

Clouds blocked the sun, and the shadows were made even darker. The passageway took on an eerie presence. A wind picked up and blew down the passageway, tumbling Hope's auburn hair. She shivered and turned her back on the passageway. She tried to convince herself that there was nothing for her to see and that she really should go find someone to look at her head, so she started to walk away. Just as it had last time she turned away, though, Hope felt that tugging sensation, that yearning to know what she would find if she continued uphill.

Without delay she turned back around and entered into the passageway. The cliff was so close that Hope could have reached out and touched it. The trees were just as close on the other side of the road. Walking between the two was like walking between two opposing cliff faces. The effect was humbling and Hope felt pathetically small in comparison.

The clouds that had built up made the air temperature drop and the wind chill factor only made it colder. Hope was freezing by the time she was halfway through the passage. The cold air made her lungs hurt, just as it had that morning. The hallway like corridor of rock and trees was longer that she had thought and it took her several minutes to reach the halfway point. The slight bend in the path was little more than a natural outcropping of rock that the road had to swing around, but it effectively blocked the view. When she got around the obstruction she could finally see where the passage ended. It was odd, because clouds still hung above the passageway, but right outside it she could see sun light. Eagerly Hope ran to the mouth of the passage. The pounding of her feet vibrated through her body jarring her hurt head and ribs, but she was so eager to get out of the passageway that she ignored the pain. It had been so cold and gloomy between the cliff and trees, that when she burst forth, the light was almost blinding and she felt instantly warmer.

The sunlight penetrated into Hope's head and added to her headache like every other factor had that day. She blinked furiously until her eyes adjusted to the bright light. She looked around in amazement at a vast meadow spread out before her and was thoroughly confused by what she saw. _Isn't it still winter? It has to be, it's February!_ But sure enough, the meadow before her was a vibrant green and full of colorful flowers. Every blade of grass, every bush, and even the pines standing around the edges of the clearing were greener than in spring. The wildflowers nodded in a light breeze, flashing their various colors as their petals caught the light.

The next thing to catch her eye was the cliff. Form where she stood at the mouth of the passage, the cliff turned sharply away to the right and continued around the edge of the meadow forming a crescent. Almost directly across from her, the crescent ended and the cliff turned again disappearing into the trees.

Tentatively, she stepped out further into the clearing. From this angle of being slightly further away from the cliff, the wings of the crescent seemed oddly like outstretched arms reaching around to cup something delicate and precious: the meadow. At the back of the crescent and at the top of the cliff, looking for all-the-world like a brooding hawk perched a daunting mansion. From this distance she couldn't really pick out many details, but it was still an impressive house. She could see that the road she stood upon followed the cliff around the meadow almost as if it didn't want to scar the scene's beauty. Then, it cut into the cliff face to climb up to the mansion.

Hope knew instantly that it was something about this mansion that had been calling to her. This is what she was supposed to see, but now that she was here, she didn't know what to do. She considered it for a moment and then thought, _I do need help, maybe there's someone here who can look at my injuries. _So, Hope followed the road around to the back of the crescent where it then cut into the rock and ascended to the top. She was a little hesitant to climb up that cliff, but once she started, she realized that the road had been expertly constructed, zigzagging at a gentle slope so that a carriage or wagon of any kind would have an easy time going from top to bottom and visa versa.

When she got half way up, she looked out over the meadow and was shocked to see how big it really was. It had to be at least a hundred yards in diameter. Flowers were literally everywhere. Every plant seemed to thrive with new life as in spring and summer. Beyond the meadow the forest stretched from horizon to horizon only being broken by the cliff which ran like a brown scar down the mountain. This place was completely isolated, but she liked it, and Hope suddenly found herself wishing that she could wake up to this view every morning.

Tearing her eyes away from the breathtaking scene, she continued up the road. At the top she had to stop for a moment to catch her breath and allow the ache in her chest to subside. The mansion stood waiting for her and it wasn't long before she had to look up and study it. It sat back far enough from the edge of the cliff that there was plenty of room for a broad circle drive and a flower garden in the center of the drive. A short, decorative, black iron fence bordered the garden keeping in the bright flowers. She only vaguely looked at the flowers, so she didn't know much else other than that they were there. The mansion held all of her attention.

It was expertly constructed out of grey stone and had a red tiled roof. Windows looked out over the meadow below. Pillars guarded a double door entrance and supported a balcony on the second story. There were three balconies in all, and two were on the second story and one on the third and highest story. A green climbing vine had taken over the whole left half of the house and wound itself in and out of the balcony above the door.

Hope's eyes strayed and she noticed that there were more buildings. Stables were set up to the left of the house and other out buildings to the right. In between the buildings, aspens had been planted forming a natural wall.

As she studied the trees, she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She turned her attention back to the mansion and saw that out of one of the many chimneys sticking up out of the roof, a thin line of blue smoke rose skyward. Hope was perplexed by this, because the place looked deserted. Leaves were piled in drifts and cobwebs hung from windows and balconies. Window panes were broken, especially along the ground floor, and the whole place had a neglected feeling.

Curious, Hope walked over to the doors and up the steps right before it. In close quarters, she could tell that they were crafted out of oak and there were intricate designs carved into them. The doors' handles were brass cast in the semblance of lions' heads roaring at each other. Hesitantly she knocked, but there was no answer. She pushed at a handle and the door easily opened on well greased and silent hinges. She took a tentative step inside and without warning the door slammed shut behind her. She jumped with a yelp and spun around, making herself almost fall over with dizziness and shortness of breath. She supported herself on a door handle and pulled at it with all her strength, but no matter how she tried the door would not open. She figured that her dizziness had stolen some of her strength and that she just didn't have enough to force the doors open. Realizing this, Hope tried to calm down and think. _Well, now I have no choice. I must go looking for help. That smoke I saw means there has to be someone here._

Turning around slowly to keep from getting dizzy again, she noticed the details of the interior for the first time. The entrance hall was large and dimly lit by what little sunshine streamed in from two windows on either side of the doors. The room was free of paint and the grey bricks used to build the whole house made the room seem that much darker. Paintings of lords and ladies adorned the walls. Benches were evenly spaced down the sides with golden floor candelabras in between them. The floor was a shiny gray marble with a red carpet running from the doors to the room ahead. She couldn't exactly tell what the room ahead was like but she could see that at its back, there were twin grand staircases curving down from the upper levels. Red carpet flowed down the alabaster marble stairs to meet with the carpet that ran from Hope's feet. The white marble stood out in sharp contrast to the gray marble of the first floor.

She could faintly see a light streaming from somewhere in that room before her, and ever curious, she passed from the entrance hall and into that light. What opened up before her was not a room, though. It was an enormous round atrium that cut through the above floors to allow not only the stairs to wind through but the multi-colored hues of a stained glass skylight. The design in that skylight was of a delicate purple-throated white morning-glory and green glass vines and leaves twined around it in an intricate knot. Each upper floor was open to the atrium and marble balustrades encircled the openings. Hope suddenly felt humbled and she knew that her appearance was inadequate for such riches.

She tore her eyes away from the stunning window, because looking up had made her head hurt again. She noticed that there was an alcove in between the stairs and double doors even larger than the entrance doors leading somewhere unknown. She was tempted to see what was behind them, lord she was tempted, but faintly to her left she heard a sound much like whispering voices. She remembered that she was here to look for people, not at architecture.

To her left there was a long hallway that disappeared around a turn faintly illuminated by another window. She vaguely noticed that there was a hall to her right as well, but the sound had definitely come from her left. Hoping to find someone, she turned down the hall and walked to where she thought the whispering had come from. She looked around and on either side all she could see were doors widely spaced in the walls and all closed. "Hello?" she called out. "Is anyone here?" There was no immediate answer, so she tried a few doors, but most of them were locked, the few that did open led to a study, a piano hall, and a small lounge that were all empty and collecting dust. Again she got that weird lonely feeling, but someone had to here, she just knew it.

Almost as if in answer to her uncertainty, she heard the whispering again. She quickly went back into the hall and turned once more to her left. At the end of the hall, her only choice was to turn right, and she did so. One of the numerous doors sat ajar and from under it a light streamed. Another whisper made her open the door and she found herself standing in a comfortable study well lit by a crackling flame in a large fireplace. A high-backed chair faced the fire and beside it a tray of tea and scones was set out. The sight of the food made her remember that she had had no breakfast or lunch and her stomach grumbled in protest.

Figuring that someone was seated in the chair, Hope politely said, "Excuse me, I'm sorry to intrude, but I can't seem to remember where I am. I came across this beautiful mansion, and I was hoping someone could help me." When no answer came she took a step forward and looked around the chair. It was empty. Now that she looked, the whole room was empty, but the fire had plenty of fuel and the food was still steaming. This place was getting weirder by the second.

Unable to resist the delicious smells rising from the food any longer, Hope poured herself a cup of tea and gratefully bit into a scone. The warm buttery taste filled her senses and she recalled the time when her father had asked the house cook to make the traditional breads after his return from negotiations in England. She was slightly worried that someone would come in then and yell at her for taking the food, but no one did.

She had just finished off the last of her scone and tea when she heard the whispering again. It was right outside the door and she jumped up, hoping to catch whoever it was. Her head spun for a moment and then she dashed to the door and looked out, but the hall was empty. "Hello?" but again no answer. Off to her left and down the hall, she thought she heard it again. She ran over, but there was nothing. Her head was spinning fast, but she forced herself to ignore it and concentrate.

Soon she was hearing the whispers all around and she ran in circles trying to track them down. They led her down so many hallways and around so many corners that she soon didn't know her cardinal directions. Without even realizing it, the sound had led her back to the entrance hall and much to her surprise the door stood open.

She had to catch her breath again and wait for her head to stop whirling. Then, curiously she peaked outside into the bright afternoon sunshine. She couldn't see anyone, but then again she hadn't seen anyone all day. She slowly stepped outside, silently thinking that at last she was going catch whoever had been sneaking around her. The front yard was empty, though. Frustrated she stamped her foot. _Where is everybody?_

From the top of the steps, Hope had a much better view of the garden in the center of the drive. The flowers were absolutely breathtaking! There were roses in every color, carnations, tulips, lilies, and columbines. She took another step forward and bang, the door slammed shut behind her, again. _Well fine! I guess I leave! _Hope thought indignantly to herself. Yet, for some reason she couldn't bring herself to move. She couldn't really bring herself to do anything, except to stand there staring at the garden. It was beautifully arranged, clearly the gardener was a genius, but there wasn't anything significant about it; she just couldn't stop studying it.

A rose bush placed in the center of the design had blood red flowers that somehow seemed to shine in the sun. The flowers seemed to draw her and she gently opened the small gate in the black fence and tiptoed along a narrow path over to the bush.

She buried her face into one of the perfect blossoms and inhaled its sweet scent. For some reason she thought about the walk down the mountain and how lonely it would be. Without even thinking her hand strayed to the flower's stem. She was dreaming about strolling down the mountain with that flower in her hand and enjoying its scent all the way back to the Duke's house. Absently, she bent the stalk and it snapped free. The rose was loose in her hand.

An ear splitting roar erupted behind her. She turned around and came face to face with a beast.

* * *

**AN: Yea! Edited chapters are so much better! Hope you liked it. I liked the discription of the atrium personaly, what did you like? Please review, please!**


	6. Chapter 6

"How dare you?" the beast bellowed. The creature towered nearly seven feet tall and resembled something between a wolf and a bear, but in his own way he was completely unique. Powerful muscles rippled under thick brown fur that covered his body. He stood on his hind legs and his arms were raised defiantly as if he were about to strike something. His fangs and claws gleamed sharply and his dark amber eyes flashed with fury. The fact that he wore a blue vest, linen breeches, and a cape much like a human would, made him appear even more frightening.

"How dare you steal one of my roses?" His face was contorted by rage and his presence horrified Hope. He took a menacing step forward and she took a fearful step back. Twigs and thorns from the rose bush poked sharply into her back and she yelped.

Unable to take another step, Hope pleaded, "Please, please Monsieur, don't hurt me! I didn't intend any harm."

Something in the beast's countenance softened when their eyes met and he suddenly seemed oddly familiar to Hope. When he spoke, though, his face hardened again and all familiarity vanished. He growled and said, "You say you intended no harm, and yet you stole from me! Do you mean to say that stealing is permissible? If you do, you're gravely mistaken."

"I'm sorry, Monsieur. I thought that since you had so many roses, a single flower might not be missed."

"You thought wrong! These roses are precious to me."

"I didn't know." Hope demanded as tears welled in her eyes.

"I shared with you my house and my table, and then you tuned and stole from me. Why…?" He cut off abruptly as if stopping himself from saying something. "Why?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry Monsieur, please believe me; I didn't know."

The beast seemed to consider the situation, "Even so, you cannot go unpunished for your actions. You shall stay here as my prisoner," his words were solid as ice.

"Monsieur, please have mercy on me," Hope winced as pain shot through her head, aggravated by all of the yelling.

"Consider this my mercy. I could do far worse to you, but since you're a woman, I am inclined to restrain myself. Therefore, it only seems fair to me that since you took my rose, I shall take your freedom."

"No," Hope was aghast. She wanted nothing more than to be away from this place, to be back with the ones she loved. Oh, why was she alone? Why couldn't she remember? And the beast terrified her more than anything. The thought of being his prisoner was almost too much to bear. "Monsieur, please."

"Enough!" he barked, cutting her off. "It shall be as I say."

Shaken beyond the point of crying and beyond the throbbing pain in her head, Hope stood limp in her horror. The rose which she had been clutching, slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground like a drop of blood. In a rush, all of her pain and fear overwhelmed her and she crumpled to the ground unconscious.

With astonishing speed, the beast leaped forward and caught Hope before her head hit the ground. He lifted her slight frame easily and with surprising gentleness. He carried her to the mansion and crossed the many halls and stairs to a room on the second floor. With the utmost care the beast laid Hope on the soft bed. Almost longingly he looked at her face and then he quietly took his leave of her presence.

/\/\/\

Colors played against the inside of Hope's eyelids and she felt a patch of warmth on her face. Her eyes flickered open and she quickly turned her head to avoid being blinded by a ray of sunshine. As full consciousness came back to her, Hope took in several senses at once. There was something soft and comfortable beneath her, the color purple was almost over dominating, and the faint scent of lilacs perfumed the air.

She sat up noticing the pain in her head was greatly reduced. She was barely even dizzy. Gingerly she touched her head and was startled to find a bandage. _Who put that there?_ But Hope's thoughts quickly shifted away from her injuries as her eyes focused on the room around her.

_Where am I?_

She was in a large bed covered by linen sheets and a royal purple comforter. A matching canopy of silk hung above her. The dark furniture in the room was skillfully crafted from the finest walnut, standing out in sharp contrast against the light colored walls. Walls that were stained a pale purple by curtains hanging at tall windows across from her. A fireplace in the wall to her left with a small blaze kept the room cozy.

Hope felt oddly comforted by the room, even though it was bigger than any she had had before.

Swinging her feet from the bed to a soft rug on the floor, she walked to a breakfast table that stood before the fire. There on the cold wood was a note written in delicate script. It read:

_Dear Señorita,_

_If you require anything my household staff would be delighted to accommodate you. Dinner will be served at seven-o-clock and your presence is requested. A servant will escort you when it is time. For now, the house is yours as I will not be in until after dinner. I trust you will find everything to your liking._

_Wolf_

Hope replaced the note and drifted to the window. Pulling back a curtain, she gazed out over a land of fire painted by the setting sun. Vaguely her eyes passed over the meadow, the cliff, the garden with the accursed rosebush, and the forested mountains beyond. The beauty of it was lost on her, though. The note still weighed heavily on her mind.

She couldn't quite figure out what it was about the message that bothered her. It was certainly polite enough, as if written for a guest instead of a prisoner. Yet the tone was commanding and the word "requested" seemed more like "required". And why would she be required to go to a dinner that this Wolf wouldn't even be at? For that matter, why wasn't the beast going to dinner? Did he not eat? Was there something wrong with the food? Maybe it was poisoned. Though, she doubted the beast would stoop to such a thing.

_I could do far worse to you…_ the beast's words echoed through Hope's mind and she shivered at the memory of his razor sharp teeth. Well maybe he could poison her, but she figured he'd use his fangs first.

Many other questions ran through her head as she gazed at the colors of the sunset. It suddenly occurred to her that it was probably very near to seven if it wasn't already. She knew she should be getting ready for dinner, make herself presentable and all, but she didn't feel like eating. Certainly she was hungry, after all she'd hardly eaten anything that day, but she feared the beast even if he wasn't going to be there.

So many questions and worries continued to race through her mind that finally she broke down and cried. _All this because of a rose… Why me?_

A brisk knock at her bedroom door made Hope jump as she spun to face whoever it was. The door was still closed, but another rap shook it slightly. "Yes?" Hope's voice sounded much more confident than she felt and she quickly brushed tears from her eyes. The door burst inward seemingly by itself revealing that no one was there. Hope was taken aback and tried to tell herself that it must have just been the wind or something, but it had opened when she called. She also tried to pass off the swishing sound that had started when the door opened as the tattered remains of said wind. But everything didn't match up with that theory. There had definitely been knocking and the handle had turned when the door opened. Also, the swishing noise reminded Hope strongly of the rustling of garments.

Tentatively Hope asked, "Excuse me is there someone here?" The swishing sound stopped and the French girl felt as if eyes were studying her. A whispering sound much like the whispering she had heard that morning started, but this time there was only one source, voice you could say, instead of several. It sound upset and Hope found herself apologizing to seemingly nothing. "I didn't mean to…" but she never finished as the whispering voice interrupted her, sounding very surprised and put out at the same time. Whatever it was scurried closer to Hope and just when she thought it'd go through her, she felt a hand pluck at her torn and dirty skirt. The whisper gave a disappointed clucking noise and Hope could just imagine her maid shaking her head in disgust.

Hope had to agree; the skirt was hopeless and would never do for dinner… That was it! "You're a servant, aren't you?" she asked. The whisper answered in a way that made Hope know she was right. It was apparent that the servant couldn't manage much more than a shrill whisper, but he definitely got the point across that he was not at all happy with what Hope was wearing.

A roll of measuring tape popped into view, floating at about chest height, and Hope guessed it had been taken from a pocket. "But you're invisible."

"Umhm," the servant confirmed as invisible hands unrolled the tape and started taking Hope's measurements.

Hope had been fitted for so many dresses that she immediately began to raise her arms over her head. She hesitated as a disturbing thought came to her and asked, "Wait, are you a maid or manservant?"

The servant stopped abruptly and began whispering furiously at Hope, clearly offended. Hope listened intently and realized that the voice was unquestionably feminine. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure," she said and to prove her point she finished raising her arms and invited the maid to continue.

When the maid had taken all the measurements she apparently needed, she walked over to a wardrobe and knocked curtly on its door. She mumbled some instructions to it and the door popped open. A dress came floating out. It was strapless and made from a burgundy satin trimmed with gold lace. The gown was much finer than any Hope owned and she found herself mesmerized by its beauty. It hung before her for a while until she realized that it was being offered to her. "You want me to wear this?"

"Umhm," the maid thrust it closer to Hope.

"I don't know what to say…"

The servant answered by setting the gown on the bed and starting to undo Hope's current dress. It was very odd to have an invisible maid undress and dress her, but if she just closed her eyes, Hope could see her friend, Claire, helping her instead. Tears came to her eyes as she recalled the conversations full of laughter that they had shared and she wondered if she'd ever see Claire again.

She was suddenly brought back to the present as the maid tightened the corset style bodice of the gown. "I say," Hope complained, "much tighter and I won't be able to breathe."

"Hmmm," the maid sounded somewhat disappointed, but she relented to loosen the bodice if only by a little.

"Thank you," Hope said taking a deep breath and feeling the constriction of her ribcage.

The maid produced a pair of matching gloves from a drawer in the wardrobe. They came just past Hope's elbows and were surprisingly comfortable. Then the maid forced her to sit in front of a vanity and began putting her hair up into a complicated bun. She also undid the bandage on Hope's forehead. It had nearly been a whole day since she had hit her head, but there was still a good sized bump. A bruise marked the bump and the purple-greeny color clashed with Hope's dress. The maid smeared a salve on it that instantly reduced the remaining pain and Hope thanked her for that.

The pampering done, Hope stood before a tall mirror in a corner of the room. The dress fit perfectly and the added touches of the hair and a gold necklace made the outfit truly stunning. "It's so beautiful," she said. "Thank you."

The maid's reply sounded very much like a whispered, "You're welcome." Then she grabbed Hope's arm and led her from the room.

They stepped into a sitting room and Hope was amazed by how lavishly it was furnished. Soft rugs, deeply cushioned chairs and divans, and various sized tables and desks littered the room. A large bookcase nearly took up one wall and a fireplace the opposite. To her right, glass doors led out onto a balcony. Curtains at either side of the doors hung open filling the room with the red light of the setting sun.

"All this is mine?"

"Umhm."

Hope didn't have much time to appreciate the room, because the maid was obviously in a hurry. Outside the sitting room was a hallway that opened up to the platform that encircled the atrium. Stairs were at the back of the platform and Hope was hurried down them.

At the base of the stairs, several other voices joined that of the maid's. Numerous invisible hands pushed and pulled Hope along in a rush. In confusion she struggled against the iron grips. Finally, she was able to break free and she took the chance to ask, "What's so important? The beast won't be back until _after_ dinner."

In response she received a communal, "Shhh!" and more pushing and pulling.

She was brought to a large dining hall in the right-wing of the mansion. Dozens of candles softly lit the room, leaving inky black shadows in the far corners. A long oak table dominated the hall and the chairs that normally sat round it had been pulled back to line the walls. Only two chairs remained at the table, one at each end. The seat closest to Hope, was decked out with a full place setting, while at the other seat a lone wine glass stood waiting as if forgotten.

A servant broke from the group and pulled out the chair with the place setting.

"Thank you," Hope said as she took the seat.

The whispered reply told her the servant was a man. He then gave what were apparently instructions to the rest of the servants, because several of them dispersed from the room. Since they were all invisible, Hope had no way of knowing who, or for that matter, how many had stayed.

The hall was awfully quiet for a few minutes and Hope began to think she was alone. At that moment, a cart carrying a tray of food burst in through double doors leading from the kitchens. It pulled up beside her and the tray seemed to float to the table. Its cover was removed in a similar way revealing a pot of gazpacho. The waiter served the soup to Hope and then drew the cart back into the kitchen.

The silence was deafening as Hope ate her dinner. After the soup, trays of pork fillets in sherry sauce, lemon and chicken roast, a white fish in a cider reduction, and a pitcher of sangria were brought out. For dessert, she was served several profiteroles dipped in chocolate with a side of cinnamon ice cream. The ice cream was her favorite and she savored each and every spoon full. The whole meal was extremely delicious and she made a point to thank her waiter and told him to give her compliments to the chef.

As the last of her dirty dishes were carted away, a soft growl erupted from the darkest shadow across from her. Hope's back stiffened and her chest tightened as she caught her breath. Candle light caught on reddish-brown fur and glinted off amber eyes. The beast was here.

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**AN: Please, please, please review! :) This is my second favorite chapter so far, as I love the way the beast and Hope interact in the opening scene of this chapter. What do you think? Which is your favorite chapter or scene?**


	7. Chapter 7

Click, clack, click, the sound of claws echoed in the dining hall. The creature slowly and very deliberately paced closer to the table. Hope sat completely still. Her breath was caught in her throat and her vision went fuzzy as things in the room started to spin. Her head pounded with pain and her ribs ached from holding her breath so long. All of this, combined with her complete fear of the beast, made Hope so woozy that she almost passed out for the second time that day.  
Warily, she watched him take the seat across from her. The table suddenly seemed very small and Hope could almost feel his hot breath.  
Painstakingly she forced herself to breathe, before she lost all awareness. Immediately, she felt most of her pain reside and felt better all around.

His fiery eyes met hers and an involuntary shudder ran down her spine. The minutes ticked slowly past as he stared at her, completely silent. The beast's gaze was so piercing that Hope couldn't bear to return it. Instead, she studied the grain of the oak table and her wine glass which had been left while the other dishes had been cleared.

A servant entered the hall and filled the beast's glass, then Hope's with white wine. He quickly hurried away as if uncomfortable in the stifled air. Once the servant was gone, the beast raised his goblet and took a long drink. The glass chinked as he set it back down. For the next minute, there was again silence. Then Hope jumped at the sound of the beast clearing his throat. "How was your day?" he asked. The question was nonchalant, but there was a hint of tension in his words.

Hope was so startled that for a moment she didn't answer. His eyes flashed impatiently and she quickly followed suit of clearing her throat. "To be honest Sir, I really don't remember. I was after all, unconscious for most of it."

"Please, call me, Wolf," he interjected.

"Yes Sir," Hope replied.

He growled.

"I mean, Wolf," she stammered.

"How is your head injury? I sent a nurse to check on you earlier," he smoothly changed subject.

"Much better; thank you."  
"How did it happen?"

The concern and caring in Wolf's voice was a dramatic contrast to earlier that afternoon. This confused Hope, but her hesitation was more from her fuzzy memory than anything else. "I fell," she finally said, still deep in thought. "There was a cliff… I woke at the bottom."

"Where?"

"Further down the mountain. I… I can't really remember."

"I'm sorry…" he stopped abruptly. Hope looked to him curiously. "Pardon me, I never asked you name," he said, as if trying to cover something.  
"My name is Hope. I am the daughter of Jonathan, French Ambassador to Spain."

"Then it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." Wolf rose slightly in his chair and bowed his head like a gentleman. There was another lull of silence as he settled back in his chair with his brow knitted in thought. Hope found it interesting to study his animal-like face without his eyes piercing into hers. Behind all the outwardly beastliness, Wolf really didn't seem intimidating. Instead, Hope noticed he seemed nervous and there was a deep sorrow and pain etched into every line of his face. He looked up and she quickly dropped her gaze.

"I was just thinking," Wolf began, "your name in Spanish is 'Esperanza'. Would you mind if I called you by that?"

"Esperanza?" she asked; he nodded. "I guess, if you so wish." _Do I really have a choice?_ She thought to herself.

"Thank you, I do prefer it."

Hope almost choked.

"I'm curious, Esperanza," he went on oblivious to her reaction, "did you get the chance to explore the rest of the house at all?"

"No, I woke up rather late," she said, feeling like she was repeating herself.

"Of course, then I will have to give you a tour tomorrow, if that's all right with you."

"That would be wonderful." She was surprised by the generous offer, but at the same time, she dreaded the thought of spending more time with the beast.

Wolf took another drink of his wine. Hope was inclined to do the same, but she couldn't bring herself to pick up the glass.

There was another awkward pause of silence. Then, "You look lovely in that dress," he seemed to be casting around for something, anything, to talk about.

"Thank you," Hope said. "A maid helped me pick it out."

"Ah, that would be your lady-in-waiting, Maria," he replied.

"I have a lady-in-waiting? I thought I was a prisoner," she asked, confused.

"I can always take her away and move you to a dungeon cell if that's what you want." Wolf's countenance darkened.

"Oh, no, no," Hope said hastily. "I didn't mean that, I was just surprised. In truth, I really would like to thank you; my room is beautiful and Maria is a wonderful maid."

"Then in that case you're welcome," the beast's anger seemed to reside, but something in his voice warned Hope not to push the subject.

"You have not touched your wine," he commented.

Hope's checks flushed with heat and she dropped her eyes shamefully. She reached for her glass and touched the cold smooth surface. She was just about to bring it to her lips, when the double doors from the hallway, burst open by themselves. She suppressed a shiver and reminded herself that she'd have to get used to this.

The invisible servant responsible for the act rushed towards the beast and started whispering furiously to him. Wolf jumped up and beckoned Hope to follow. She rushed to his side and the wine glass was left forgotten.

"Can you understand them?" she asked, as she hurried behind, almost running to keep up with Wolf's long stride.

"No more than you can," he said gruffly over his shoulder.

They walked quickly onward. In the entrance hall, the doors were hastily thrown open by unseen hands and the moonlit courtyard was revealed. The beast rushed forward, blocking Hope's view for a moment. Then she was able to see a chestnut horse, clearly a mare, rearing on its hind legs and straining against the tethers that held it back. She couldn't see exactly how many servants there were holding the mare down, but from the number of ropes, she guessed quit a few.

The mare neighed wildly and rolled her eyes back in her head when she caught wind of Wolf. "Where did she come from?" he demanded.

There were several whispering voices all talking at once, making it hard for Hope to distinguish between them, but she wasn't really trying either. Something about the mare struck a chord deep inside of her and it took a moment to figure out what it meant. "Wolf," she called his attention.

"What?" he snapped.

"I know this horse. She belongs to one of the Duke's drivers."

"Then what in the world is she doing here?"

Suddenly it all came back to Hope, "We crashed. That's why I'm alone. How could I possibly forget?"

"What crashed?" Wolf looked concerned.

"We were in a carriage and this horse was one of the two driving. It was dark and foggy and we were traveling absurdly fast. Papa, wanted to get home for some reason," she said, her brow knitting as she tried to remember more. "We hit something on the road and the carriage flipped. And that's why I remember falling! I fell off the cliff that we were traveling along. I can't believe I forgot? I mean, how can something like that slip my mind?" Hope smacked her forehead in frustration.

"Then," she went on, "Papa… Wait, Papa! I don't know what happened to him!" She realized and a desperate fear settled over her heart like a heavy weight. "Papa," she whispered. "Wolf, please, you have to let me go. I have to see if my father's ok, if he's… if he's alive."

"No!" he barked. "You will stay here."

"Wolf, please, I have to know father's all right. What if he needs my help?"

"No Esperanza, I cannot allow you to leave."

"Wolf, I have to see him," Hope pleaded.

"And you will," Wolf said.

"But you just sa…"

"There's another way," he cut in.

"How? Please, Wolf, just let me go."

"I cannot let you leave, but there is a way for you to see him. You'll have to trust me."

Hope hesitated; then gave in, "Okay."

The beast turned to the servants still holding the horse, "Put her in the stable. She'll be staying with us for the time being." Then he turned back to Hope, "This way."

They reentered the mansion and zigzagged their way to a dimly lit corridor. "Where are you taking me?" Hope asked, suddenly wary. Wolf didn't answer. Instead, he kept walking in front of her, head held high, back straight and looking dead ahead. Every muscle in his body seemed to be tensed and she had the impression that now was not the time for questions.

The passage way was very short and led directly to a large, heavy door. Portraits hung on the shadowed walls like silent guardians. Hope struggled to pick out details of the men's faces, but all she could really discern was that they were all of high social rank. She had just enough time to notice that the last picture on the right had been torn and the canvas was hanging in shreds from the frame, then Wolf opened the door and stood back, conveniently hiding the painting.

"After you," he said.

Hope nodded and moved forward. The close quarters of the passage forced her to pass nearer to the beast than she would have liked. As she walked by, she felt his warm breath on her neck and she had to stop herself from jumping away.

Beyond the door was another, longer hall with several doors leading to unknown rooms. It appeared to be a whole wing to the mansion that Hope had no clue existed. Wolf followed her in, and the door creaked as it swung halfway closed.

"The first door on your left…" his voice was so near and unexpected that Hope couldn't help jumping this time. To hide her nerves, she quickly opened the indicated door and stepped into a darkened room lit only by the stars. Wolf took no notice of her actions and busied himself with lighting candles.

When the lights flared up, a small room was revealed with a leather settee and a low table. They were turned so that someone seated could look out a glorious French window. In the wall to the right, was a fireplace with wood stacked in it ready to be lit, and on the other wall, there was nothing other than the two sconces, that Wolf had lit, and a mirror hanging in the precise middle.

The mirror was rectangular and about the size of the portraits hanging in the dark passage way. It had an intricate filigree frame made from both silver and gold with rubies set in the petals of two large roses, one on either side of the glass.

Wolf indicated the mirror and said, "You have only to ask, and this will show you whatever you heart desires to see."

Hope had already guessed that the place was enchanted, so she did not question him, but still she hesitated. "If you could please show me my father," she said, not knowing what to expect.

For a moment the mirror continued to reflect the room, and then its surface went black and matted like coal. Its glossy finish returned a second later and a faint image began to appear on the dark background. The picture began to brighten and solidify, until it looked as if the mirror was reflecting the room again. But it couldn't have been, because the room it showed was in the Duke's house. Hope knew this for a fact, because she had been in that room just a day or two ago.

Four men were scattered about the room, doing various things. The Duke was sitting in a wing-backed chair listening carefully, it seemed, to a man standing by his side. Hope recognized the man as the driver of the carriage that had crashed. A third gentleman, that she didn't recognize, was sitting next to a tea table, absently eating a cookie from one of the trays of snacks that sat there. The forth man had his back turned to Hope, and he was intently studying a map that hung on the far wall.

The Duke said something and the man at the map turned to answer.

Hope sucked in her breath, "Papa."

Jonathan walked over to take a seat next to the Duke. The Driver pulled up a chair and the other man sat forward in his, so that all four men were sitting in a kind of circle.

Hope scrutinized her father's face as best as she could. There was a grave look to his face and his eyes were red as if he had been crying. Other than this, she couldn't see anything wrong.

The four men were in deep discussion now, and Hope dearly wished she could hear them.

She voiced this thought and Wolf replied, "I'm sorry, it doesn't have sound, but at least you can see him. That's all that mattered, wasn't it?"

The comment was like a slap to her face. "How dare you?" Hope asked, appalled. "My father means everything to me. How can you say such a thing?!" She screamed these last words and ran from the room, slamming the door in Wolf's face.

She slammed every successive door she came to, until finally she locked herself in her boudoir. She was confused by how one minute, Wolf, could be thoughtful and caring and the next a complete monster. She wanted desperately to get away from this place and to see her father again. She felt a lot of things, but mainly she was angry. Angry at herself for coming here in the first place, but mostly she was angry at Wolf.

Was he so cold and uncaring that he couldn't even see how much she loved her father? Was he so cruel that wicked jests, like what he had just said, rolled off his tongue? Hope wasn't sure, but she knew that he had crossed a line, whether he meant to or not.

Someone knocking at her door broke Hope's thoughts. Not even bothering to ask who it was, she yelled, "Go away! I don't want to talk to anyone." When whoever it was didn't knock again, Hope was even more infuriated. It seemed like whoever it was really didn't care about her, otherwise they would have continued to knock. She didn't know why, but every little thing seemed to just add to her anger.

At last, overloaded with frustration and sorrow, Hope started to cry. The tears were bitter and held no comfort for her. Too weary to fight anymore, she collapsed on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

**AN: Yea!!! It's so exciting to get new chapter's up! And hey, this one didn't take me five months, so you should be proud of me! I'm almost certain the next one will be up even sooner, and I hope that on a whole my update timing improves. Please, don't be afraid to leave reviews. I want to know what you guys think of my work, so please, please, please, leave reviews. Thank you to everyone who does leave reviews, you're the ones that keep this going. Thanks to all of you, for simply reading this. **


	8. Chapter 8

*** * * **

Roque sat on a stool out on his balcony. The night was dark, but millions of brilliant stars shone forth. It was to these stars that Roque looked.

Winter still held the land as evident in the bitingly cold breeze that brushed over Roque's bear arms. Even though the night was intensely cold, the young baron reveled in the feeling of the wind caressing his skin. _Ah,_ he thought, _on such nights one could almost envy the wolf his fur coat, but not tonight; not me. No, on such nights it is good to be human. I only wish I could stay this way… _

Vaguely on the horizon he could see mountains raising their heads to challenge the blanket of stars. Below him lay the gardens of his estate and beyond; the ancient pine forest, occasionally broken by groves of aspen.

Many thoughts rushed through his mind. He found it impossible to concentrate on any one thought. He knew he was in a predicament, but he had no clue how to get out of it. Instead of trying to figure out a solution, he let his mind wander to different things. His fingers absently strummed a guitar while his eyes were busy picking out shapes in the stars. Some of the constellations had been taught to him by a private tutor when he was younger, but most of them were new and strange. Easily, he picked out the Great Bear, and shivered thinking about the tales of horror told about such creatures, some that he knew all too well.

A disturbance at the balcony doors made Roque jump in his seat. He looked around and saw that it was only his man servant, Antonio. Antonio was a tall man with a sharply angled face and hawk-like nose. His brown eyes were hidden behind thick eyebrows, but one could still see the cold glimmer of the stars reflected in them. Antonio was not only Roque's personal servant, but he was also the head of all of the servants in the household and he carried himself with a very self-important stature.

"You startled me," Roque said.

"I'm sorry, Sir; I bring the cup of tea you requested."

"Ah, yes, thank you," Roque said, taking the cup.

"Of course," Antonio said. "Is there something troubling you, Sir?" he asked, as he took a seat next to the baron.

"I just don't know what to do. I made a royal fool of myself back there, and I can't see how to change that."

"My suggestion would be to try talking," Antonio said.

"Are you sure that would work?" Roque asked. "With my luck I'd probably just be ignored or make it worse."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt trying, Sir. I think if you make a sincere and honest apology, the problem may be resolved."

"I don't know, I guess I'll just have to see. But now the question is when?"

Antonio said, "Probably before too long. You wouldn't want something like this to fester."

"I don't even know what I did wrong." Roque's countenance was down cast.

"Whatever you did, no longer matters. It's what you do now that makes the difference," Antonio said.

"You're right," Roque said looking hopeful, "and as you said, the sooner the better. Yes, I'll do it now, right now as a matter of fact!" He set his tea cup aside and slipped the guitar from his lap. He practically ran through his rooms and the halls of his housed followed by Antonio.

Roque stopped his mad rush in front of a door on the second floor of his mansion. He raised his hand to knock and was about to do so, when suddenly he dropped his arm. He turned to Antonio—his brow creased—and asked, "Do you think now is the right time, or should I wait 'til morning? I'd hate to be an intrusion, and this might not be the best time for me to be seen."

"I only said that you shouldn't wait _too_ long," Antonio pointed out. "I think right now probably isn't the best time; morning would be much better. I mean you could right now, but it might be hard to explain your appearance."

"I know. That's what I was thinking of. At least, I can't show myself yet, there may come a time when that would be prudent, but not now. That should probably go for all of us; between the hours of ten and midnight, we cannot allow ourselves to be seen by… well you know who I mean."

"Of course my lord; I'll make sure that everyone follows the rule," the head servant said.

"And be strict about this, Antonio, no one, I mean NO ONE, is to be seen unless I say otherwise."

"Yes Sir." Antonio turned to leave.

"Oh, before you go, I'll be returning to my rooms now; please send up my dinner. It seems like I've waited forever to sit down and eat."

Antonio nodded his understanding and then left.

Roque watched the man leave, but couldn't bring himself to do the same. He stayed in front of the door continuing to debate whether he should knock and go in or not. He really wanted to see her, to talk, but at the same time he was nervous. Then there was the fact that his guest was probably asleep, and he would hate to wake her up. After a brief moment of indecision, he decided he would indeed wait until morning.

Before he left, he whispered towards the door, "Dulces sueños, la esperanza de mi corazón." In saying this, his heart beat had quickened and a warm flush filled his face. He walked away quickly with his head down trying to hide his embarrassment. Several of his servants automatically moved out of his way as he passed back through the halls; one didn't.

Roque and one of his maids collided in midstride, because like him, she hadn't been paying attention. Both ended up on the floor from the impact, and the maid scrambled to her feet sputtering out apology after apology. For a moment, anger flashed in Roque's mind as he stood up. He could sense that the on lookers of the incident were all holding their breath and he could smell their fear for the fate of the unfortunate girl. Angered even further by this, he made ready to scold the maid. He looked her full in the face and stopped. The girl was the lady-in-waiting of his guest and not just a simple maid. Afraid that reprimanding this maid would offend his guest, whose opinion he valued above all else, he bit his tongue and held back any harsh remarks. Instead, he straightened to his full height and stepped around the girl not daring to look her in the eye for fear of what he might do. Quickly he walked on, head held high to make sure nothing like that would happen again.

Roque tried to forget about the accident and in the mean time, came to a short passage way that seemed to dead end. He turned down the passage and walked straight to the back where he knew a door was hidden in the shadows. No light from the rest of the house filtered this far into the alcove, a fact that made Roque extremely happy, because it meant there was no need to look at the portraits of his ancestors that hung on the walls. The painting that hung directly to his right was a portrait of him, but few would recognize it, as tragically it had been torn.

Ignoring the fact that the picture even hung there, Roque reached for a door knob where his memory told him there was one. He found the bronze handle to be cool beneath his touch and he turned it easily opening the door. Beyond; a long hallway stretched with several doors branching off into dusty, forgotten rooms. He walked past most of doors not even thinking about the family and life that had once filled them and was now gone. He opened the third door from the end and walked into his boudoir and bypassed the entrance to his bedroom, going instead out on the balcony.

"Ah, Antonio, I see you brought my food. Gracias," he said, smiling to the man standing beside a cart with a covered platter on it.

"De nada, señor. I hope you will find it to your liking even though it was cooked a few hours ago," Antonio said.

"I'm sure I will, and I'll probably have to get used to this, because I would hate to have the Cook make two meals, so don't worry, I'm okay."

"As you say, Sir," Antonio said.

When Roque was finished with the pork, chicken, fish, and ice cream that was served him, Antonio had another servant roll away the cart. Then both men sat on stools looking out at the beautiful night around them. The air was cruelly cold, but the sky was perfectly clear and the stars were spectacular! The baron absently reached for his guitar, which lay nearby.

"What shall I play, Antonio?" Roque's voice was soft and thoughtful.

"Well, Sir, I'm not really sure." Antonio paused, "How about something that matches the mood of the night?"

"Okay, let's see… how about this one?" Roque's voice faded as he started picking out notes in the lower registers. The soft twang of the strings had a mournful cry to it. The tempo was slow and the notes were all in a minor key. Playing felt good to Roque, because through the instrument he could pour out all of his sorrow, confusion, and frustration. The piece was one that he had composed several years ago, but tonight he thought it had an added credibility as it fit everything he was feeling.

"¡Dios mío!" Antonio said, "I wasn't thinking of such a sad song. Are you still thinking about what happened earlier today?"

"Yes, that and several other things," Roque said, taking his fingers from the guitar and his eyes became distant, as if he were concentrating very hard on something. "I just feel like I've been trapped for so long, and today I don't even know what I did wrong, and to top it all off, I literally walked right into a maid just a short while ago."

"I heard," said Antonio.

"I was able to hold my tongue, but I felt so powerless to my anger." Roque fell silent and Antonio didn't dare say a word. The young baron took one last look at the stars and then said, "It is eleven-thirty; we should probably get some sleep."

Antonio stood up and moved towards the door, "Of course, goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight," Roque said as he too stood up with guitar in hand. They moved inside and Antonio headed to his own room on the third floor. Roque put his guitar back in its case and then went into his bedroom.

Out of necessity, his room was simply furnished. There was a sturdy armoire, a full length mirror with a spider web of cracks running through it and a sizeable chunk of glass missing at eyelevel, a padded wing-backed chair with deep tears in the fabric, a large bed that had once had a canopy, but which had been broken off long ago, and a mantled fireplace.

Roque quickly changed into his bedclothes and turned down the covers, but he didn't get in to his bed. Something caught his eye and drew him towards the fireplace. A warm glow came from the hearth and he absently threw another log on to keep the fire blazing. It wasn't the fire that had caught his attention, though. In a clear crystal vase up on the mantle was one red rose. A poet would be ashamed, for no verse he could write would capture the beauty or perfection of this rose.

He sat there before the fire staring at the flawless blossom. It was with a bittersweet lump in his throat that Roque looked at the rose. The flower's presence both foreshadowed his ultimate doom and his possible salvation. In six months, the bloom would wilt and his fate would be sealed. If in those few months, though, he could just get the girl who plucked the rose to fall in love with him… but who was he kidding? How could anyone love a man who was more like a beast than a human?

Roque stood up, shaking his head in despair. He curled up in his bed and got as comfortable as he could, but he knew he wouldn't fall asleep. He could never fall asleep until after midnight, and on several occasions, he found himself getting no sleep at all. He wondered if this was going to be one of those sleepless nights. From where he lay, Roque stared at the ceiling tracing the patterns in the paint. All he could think about was his guest, asleep just a few hallways and rooms over on this very same floor. He wanted to see her so badly, to watch her sleeping, but he knew that was entirely rude, and he could not bring himself to do something so brash, at least not yet. He thought about tomorrow and how he was going to apologize for a mistake that he didn't even fully understand. His mind drifted back to the rose and all of the pain, fear, and hope that it stood for. He let his conscience float like this for an incalculable amount of time. Then from his boudoir there came the sound of a deep chiming grandfather clock. Midnight. He tensed himself knowing the pain that was to come. His eyes closed and a tear rolled down his check. The last chime sounded and the agony began.

* * *

**AN: Yeah, new chapter! I hope this one satisfies all of you that demanded more on Roque, at least for right now, lol. :)  
Translation of the one full spanish sentence: "Dulces sueños, la esperanza de mi corazón." -- "Sweet dreams, hope of my heart."  
Isn't it sweet??? Okay, so maybe a little corny, but I like it! :) Please review!!!! Thank you!**


	9. Chapter 9

*** * ***

The sun was hastening to the west on the day after the crash. Even though the sun had shone all day long, the air was still cold with winter. Jonathan dejectedly walked next to the driver who rode in pain on the back of the only horse they had left. They had passed through town some time before and were now coming upon the Duke's mansion.

"Finally, we're here," Jonathan said pulling out a handkerchief to dab the cold sweat from his brow. The horse drew to a stop at the base of the front stairs and Jonathan moved to help the driver down. Seeming to never miss a guest, the Duke burst forth from the doors. Not even asking questions, he quickly descended to help Jonathan carry the driver up the stairs.

When they got inside the Duke caught a startled servant, "Bring the doctor, and quick!" The servant ran off.

The driver started to protest, "I thank you for your help up the stairs, but I can walk. I don't need to be carried all the way." The Duke stepped away, but Jonathan persistently stayed by his side.

"Don't even try to tell me to let go," the ambassador said. "It's because of you that I'm here and I'm not leaving until I know you are in good hands." The driver did not complain.

The Duke wondered at this because even though Jonathan's words were harsh, there was a look of concern on his face for the driver. The Duke also sensed that underneath all the things Jonathan had said and done, there was something being restrained, something much greater than just the driver's leg. Holding back his curiosity, the Duke said to the injured man, "Let us at least get you to a comfortable seat."

"Fine," the driver said, "but I don't need to be carried. Despite his protest, he leaned heavily on Jonathan as they walked to a sitting room, the same one Jonathan and Hope had been brought to on their first day.

The driver had just taken a seat when the doctor came in the door. Jonathan spoke up, "It's his leg. He fell on it pretty hard."

"I think I can speak for myself," the driver retorted. Then, turning to the doctor with a smirk, he said, "It's my leg." The doctor set about examining the injury and wrapping it in a brace.

"Now that he's being taken care of," the Duke said with a hint of impatience, "tell me, what happened? Why are you back and where is your daughter, Jonathan?"

The French man's face grew somber, but the driver spoke first, "Can we get something to eat before we start into that? It's a long story, and we haven't eaten all day."

The Duke looked shocked, "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I would have sent for food with the doctor. "Come, Derrick," he signaled a servant, "bring food at once."

"Yes Sir," Derrick said as he walked out. A few minutes later, a different servant brought in a platter with a variety of sandwiches and tea.

"Thank you," said Jonathan and the driver together. Gratefully, they ate their first meal that day.

The Duke waited patiently while they ate, but as soon as the servant left with their empty plates, he jumped up. "Now then, what happened?"

Jonathan took a sip from his tea cup and said, "We crashed. It's entirely my fault. Yesterday, when I learned that a diplomat from the American Colonies had come asking for France's aid in their war for independence from Britain, I knew I had to get home as soon as possible—being an ambassador it'd be my responsibility. But I was too eager to get home. I insisted that we push on through the night; my first mistake." With occasional input from the driver, Jonathan told the Duke all that had happen on that fateful night. However, the driver kindly took over when the tale came to the telling of Hope's fall and disappearance. Jonathan was too busy desperately trying to hold back tears, to talk. The few words he had said were so choked up that they were almost indiscernible.

"Ay Dios mío, how awful!" the Duke exclaimed. "Why didn't you stay to find her?"

"I tried!" Jonathan shot back angrily. "And don't think I didn't. If it hadn't have been for the driver, believe me, I would have stayed."

"And nobody's saying you wouldn't have," the driver said trying to calm Jonathan down. Then he turned to the Duke, "But with my leg injured so badly, we had to come back. I didn't think it safe leaving the ambassador in the mountains alone, especially since we had lost our second horse."

Jonathan added, referring to the driver, "He also made the point that it might be easier to find Hope if I had a search party. That's the main reason I agreed to come back, and where I could use some help, Your Grace."

Not even hesitating, the Duke asked, "How many men do you need?"

Jonathan smiled, "Oh thank you. I knew I could count on you."

The men quickly delved into the technicalities of setting up the search party. An hour later they were sitting with the Duke's head huntsman poring over maps and trying to figure out a search grid.

"On our way back this morning," said the driver, "I noticed that we were south of the road that leads to Roque's barony, so let's start searching between here and there."

"Are you sure?" Jonathan asked. "I didn't think we were that far south." He pointed to the map that the huntsman had brought.

The Duke's mansion was marked in bright red flowing script next to a dot in the same color. The road traveling north to France was heavily outlined in brown as opposed to lesser roads which were just lines. The small paths known to the huntsmen and few else were dashed lines. A black dot marked the town that Jonathan had refused to stop at the night before. The next dot marking a village along the main road wasn't until just before the border. The expanse between the two villages was a good day's ride.

"I know that we were past the town," said Jonathan, "and I could have sworn that we had passed a side road right before sundown. We crashed well after dark and the next side road would be the one that leads to Roque's."

"But I'm sure we weren't that far north," insisted the driver.

Jonathan was still dubious and studied the map intently. The more he gazed at the paper, the hazier the area that was Roque's land became. The land between the town and first road was sharp and clear, but each time he looked north the lines seemed to blur. The blur spread into his mind, and unconsciously he forgot the reasons behind his protest. "Yes, yes I see it now. We couldn't possibly have been that far north."

"Well that narrows the search area down a lot," the huntsman said. "Considering that and the urgency of the situation, I'll take fifty of my best men and start out tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Jonathan complained.

"It will have to be," the Duke said. "It's already getting on to dark and they won't be able to do much with what's left of the light."

Jonathan was about to protest again when the servant Derrick walked in and cleared his throat, "My Lord and honored guests, dinner is served." Though it had only been about two hours since they had last eaten, the driver and Jonathan were ready for more. There was no protest when a break was called, promising to reconvene the meeting after supper.

The meal was short, but the sky quickly darkened, and it was well after sunset by the time they were all finished. Everyone knew the urgency of the situation, none more than Jonathan, but feet dragged as they made their way back to the meeting room. Since it was decided that nobody would set out until the next day, they spent the next couple of hours going over and rechecking logistics. Jonathan wanted to make doubly sure that everything would be ready to go as soon as it was day light. It was decided that the party would be broken up into ten groups. After a particularly heated debate as to the deployment of said groups, the Duke called for a break and some refreshments. "We won't get anything done if we're all bickering, so let's just sit back and relax for a few minutes." Jonathan wasn't happy about this, but the others gratefully accepted the cookies and milk. The Duke didn't take any because he was still carefully studying a map in his hands.

"Driver?" he said. "Tell me about the cliff again. I think I remember it, but I can't think for the life of me where it is."

"Of course." the driver slowly got up and move to the Duke's side, being careful of the brace on his leg.

Jonathan also got up, but he moved to look at a map hanging on the wall. Something still bothered his about the area that they had decided to search. Each time he tried to look at the map, specifically north of the search area, his vision went hazy. Thinking it was something in his eyes, he gave up on the map and instead used this moment to really think about all that had happened. He thought of Hope's face and how much she looked like her mother. He forced himself to hold back another fount of tears.

"Jonathan," the Duke called. "If I remember this cliff and the surrounding area right, it's pretty nasty territory. I guess what I'm trying to say is, have you thought about… Well what if Hope's… I mean…"

"You mean, 'What if she's dead?' Trust me, I've thought about that, but I won't give up without even trying. Even if… well no, never mind, there is no 'if'. I will find her alive; I have to!" A mirror behind the Duke's head caught Jonathan's eye for a moment. He didn't know why, but something about the mirror just gave him the feeling that someone was watching him. He decided it was probably just his reflection. He shrugged the feeling off.

"Okay Jonathan," the Duke cleared his throat. "Well I can see you're a determined man, good. There's not much else we can do tonight, though. So why don't we all call it good and get some sleep before tomorrow."

They all mutely nodded in agreement, said goodnight, and dispersed.

* * *

**Wow, how the time flies! I did not intend for this chapter to take so long, but it did. Sorry about that, hope the wait wasn't too bad. Anyways, I want to ask all my readers a question. When I first developed the characters of the Duke and the driver, they weren't supposed to have very big roles. They kind of pushed their way forward and demanded for more, though, so I guess it's only fitting that I should name them. What do you think? Do you have any suggestions for their names? Please review and thank you for reading! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

Soft morning light diffused into the room through purple curtains hanging at tall windows. Hope drowsily awoke in comfortable, soft bedding. But something felt wrong. For a moment, she lay unmoving; confused. She wasn't sure where she was. Claire hadn't come to wake her, which was odd. Even more peculiar was the total silence, save for the song of some bird outside her window. In her house the servants always chattered away like a flock of chickadees and if it wasn't Claire that woke her it was usually the noise.

Opening her eyes to look around the room, Hope suddenly remembered where she was and a cold fear settled in her stomach. Images of the Wolf flickered through her mind: the sharp fangs, the cruel claws, his fierce eyes; the immensity of his beastly body. Hope shivered as she remembered his harsh words, "Consider this my mercy. I could do far worse to you…"

_Mercy?_ She thought. _How can imprisonment be mercy?_

Suddenly her bedroom door burst open and Hope screamed, bolting upright. There was no one there, but the door had clearly been opened and not by any vagrant breeze. Instantly Hope remembered that the servants in this house were strangely both invisible and incapable of speech or even making much sound. Irrationally annoyed Hope cried, "Don't do that!" in the direction of the presumed intruder. "The least you could do is knock or make some kind of noise to let me know you're coming. This house is much too quiet, and it doesn't help at all that you're invisible!"

A muffled apology came out of the air and confirmed to Hope that she had been right to assume a servant had entered her room.

"Sorry," Hope said suddenly feeling remorseful, "I'm just not used to the silence of this house yet."

The servant seemed to understand and dismissed the incident. Instead she started fussing with the enchanted wardrobe to pick out a decent day dress.

Reminded of the conversation shared with the beast last night, Hope asked the servant, "Are you Maria?"

The answering whisper was affirmative.

"Is there any way you and I can talk to better understand each other?"

Off of a dresser Maria removed a pad of paper and pencil.

"Ah, that makes sense," Hope said.

Maria quickly scribbled on the pad and handed it to Hope. Her writing read, "There's a pad like this in every room of the house. Master placed them to better communicate with us."

"Master…" Hope repeated quietly to no one in particular. "Is your master – the beast – is he hard to work for?"

Maria quickly wrote as if angry, "My master is not a beast! He is one of the greatest men I have ever had the privilege to know."

"Man?" Hope asked astounded. "He is no man! He's a wolf creature, a monster even!"

"You do not know him yet. He is much more than he appears."

"Then why doesn't he act like something more?"

"I'll admit he has a temper, and what he did to you was rash – after all you had no idea – but it's not his fault! In a way he had no choice."

"What! No choice? This is completely his fault! I did nothing wrong!" Hope stated horrified.

"You plucked one of the forbidden roses," Maria stated firmly.

"Forbidden? Why are they forbidden," Hope was suddenly very much curious.

"I'm sorry but I am not in a position to give you that information," Maria wrote very seriously. To quickly change subjects she then wrote, "Now, breakfast will be served in about an hour's time. Would my lady like to take a bath?"

Reluctantly Hope said, "Oh I suppose that would be nice, thank you."

"Then please follow me." Maria set aside the pad and pencil, picked up the day's selected outfit, and handed Hope a dressing robe.

In a well lit marble-tiled bathroom, just a few doors down from Hope's room, they found that a warm bath was in the process of being drawn. Fresh towels were sitting on a bench along with an assortment of shampoos, perfumes, and soaps. The water felt luxurious to Hope and she instantly relaxed into day dreams. Images of her home back in France flickered behind her closed eyelids. Silently she prayed that there might be some way she could get home before spring and see her well loved flowers bloom in the garden and greenhouse. She felt it was weird to see the flowers blooming here. It wasn't the right season at all. The plants should be dead. The ground should be covered in snow, not green grass.

A loud knocking at the door broke her thoughts. "Come in," she said.

Maria opened the door and picked up the pad and pen found above the sink. She wrote, "Time to get out. Breakfast will be served soon."

"What's the rush?" Hope asked. "Will the Wolf be there or something?"

"No, he will meet you shortly afterwards, but he is expecting you all the same. Please let's not make him wait."

Although Hope feared what the beast might do if she were terribly late, she also didn't feel like hurrying to see him. So she took as much time as she dared to get dressed and fix her hair in a simple yet extremely neat pony-tail. Maria led her back to the great dining hall where delicious smells coming from silver trays on the table already awaited her. Hope noticed that this time there was only one place set up, not even a glass at the other end. Most noticeably, though, a few wooden leaves had been removed to make the table drastically shorter.

Hope did her best to ignore these changes as she sat down to eat her breakfast served by an invisible wait staff. As covers to trays were removed, Hope found a generous spread of eggs, bacon, sausages, ham, porridge, rolls, and even crêpes before her. She was surprised to see crêpes outside of France but delighted all the same. Crêpes were her favorite and after tasting every dish, she helped herself to more of these French specialties.

A wheeled cart came to remove the dishes as she finished. Hope heard a rather loud click, almost as if there were two simultaneous clicks, as the doors to the kitchen closed behind the retreating cart. Thinking she was alone, she started terrified by a nervous cough behind her. She turned to glare at the Wolf.

"I'm sorry," he quickly said, "I didn't mean to startle you, Esperanza."

"Well you did!" Hope snapped. "You're just as bad as your servants; always sneaking up on me. Couldn't you let me know when you approach like a real gentleman would do?"

Wolf's pride felt hurt by this last line, and he shot back, "Well if you'd pay more attention you would have heard me open the door. And besides, I was just about to introduce my presence, so that's your fault!"

Realizing that he was right but not wanting to give up the fight just yet, Hope complained, "Well you probably entered in sequence with the kitchen doors so I couldn't hear you."

The beast loomed angrily over Hope, and she suddenly had a great fear that he was going to lash out and hit her. But a cloud seemed to pass over his eyes and Wolf straightened out the chain that held a red cloak to his broad grey furred shoulders as he regained his composure. "Esperanza, I did not come here to argue. In fact, I came to see how you were doing this morning. I know yesterday was not easy at all for you."

"You're one to talk!" Hope rolled her eyes, and turned her back on him.

"Esperanza, please," Wolf pleaded, seeming truly sincere, "I do not wish to argue."

Seeing that her belligerence was getting her nowhere, Hope faced the Wolf said, "I feel much better this morning, thank you. Besides being quiet, you servants have been extremely nice and hospitable."

"Yes, the silence can be trying at times, but I'm glad to hear that you appreciate their efforts. They're all very excited that you are here. It's been awhile since they had anyone else to wait on. Speaking of which, how was your breakfast?"

"Wonderful," Hope said, "I really enjoyed the crêpes. I was surprised to see them, but they tasted absolutely delicious. They were filled with raspberries; a treat you don't usually find in the middle of February."

"Splendid!" Wolf said, ignoring the stress that she had emphasized the month with. "It certainly is nice to have such a wonderful chef on hand. He was trained in Paris, you know."

"That would explain his skill then," Hope agreed.

"Yes, he is excited to finally get the chance to cook many of the French dishes he learned."

Hope found it interesting that the Wolf spoke in such a friendly manner. It was such an extreme change from last night and even from just a few minutes ago. She quickly recalculated in her mind the character of the creature standing before her. He clearly was much more complicated than she had first assumed. Instead of being completely brutish, he had a more congenial side it seemed, and Hope almost longed to get to know this side of him better, but a fear and indignation at her imposed capture lingered in the back of her mind. Still she wished to continue talking, so she carefully prompted, "About that tour you offered yesterday, tell me more."

"Ah yes," Wolf said. "If you would still be willing to come with me, I would gladly take you on a tour of my house and lands."

"Of course I would, especially since it seems I will be here for a while," Hope smiled at the Wolf. He smiled back, which looked extremely foolish on his muzzled face, but he quickly regained his more serious countenance. Hope thought the smile was oddly cute.

"Let us begin then," Wolf said. "This mansion was built fifty years ago. Of course the barony was established close to two-hundred years ago, but there have been several Manor houses. This is the most recent one."

"Where is the baron?" Hope asked.

"He died and his son disappeared," Wolf replied simply.

"Oh my goodness," Hope recoiled from the thought of such a tragedy. "When did this happen?"

"Several years ago."

"Wow that's informative," Hope said sourly, not even noticing the warning hint of ice in Wolf's voice. "And just how long have you been here?"

"Five years," Wolf said shortly. "And if you don't mind, Esperanza, I do not appreciate questions of this nature, so I think it would be best if we just continued with the tour." He sharply turned on one paw and left the dining hall.

Not wanting to enrage the beast further, Hope meekly followed. The rapid changes in Wolf's moods thoroughly confused her. She did have to admit to herself that her own moods were rather fickle, but for good reason usually. The Wolf seemed totally different. It was as if any and all questions angered him. This didn't make very much sense. Either he just simply hated questions, or he was hiding something big. Hope had an apprehensive feeling that it was the second of the two cases, and that somehow she was now tied up in all of it.

Breaking her thoughts, Wolf spoke up and said, "The baron who had this mansion built, Señor Ricardo, wanted to make a statement among the neighboring baronies. He hired only the best builders and craftsmen to design and complete this house." They walked down the hall back towards the main foyer.

"Consequently," he continued, "not everything here was made in Spain. For example the stained glass window here in the atrium ceiling was made in Venice." They moved into the multihued light to better appreciate its beauty.

"It is incredibly beautiful," Hope said.

"Indeed," Wolf said softly.

It was then Hope realized that Wolf was staring at her and not the window. Feeling extremely nervous under his intense gaze and from the close proximity of his beastly body, she tried to hide her emotions in saying, "Shall we continue the tour?"

"I suppose," Wolf said off-handedly, giving Hope a sudden sinking feeling that she had only barely escaped something, though she didn't know what. "Are you in a hurry?"

"No, I just find this house very interesting, and would like to know more," she said truthfully.

"As you wish then." Wolf turned his eyes from Hope, and she felt instantly better. She couldn't bear to have Wolf stare at her for very long. Something about his gaze unnerved her. It just seemed so… so… human.

There were many rooms and halls to go through on just the first floor alone making Hope quickly lose track. Some of the rooms did stand out to her, like the sitting room she came to on her first day, and others that she had previously looked into. In some ways she knew all of that had happened only yesterday, but in other ways it felt like a year had already gone by.

Another room in particular stood out to her. It had large windows in yellow painted walls that faced the front garden and cliff with a baby grand piano positioned as the center of attention of several deeply cushioned chairs and couches.

When she mentioned that she liked the room, Wolf said, "They used to hold grand parties in this house. This room was designed for the chamber musicians that the Baron would hire from all over Europe. It's been silent in here for several years, though."

Wolf seemed profoundly sad, but Hope couldn't resist the curiosity. "What happened to the last baron's son? It's just I'm surprised that the Duke, or really anyone else in Spain, hasn't tried to find him."

"This is a very small barony," Wolf said. "And it's unimportant in the eyes of others."

"An entire barony unimportant?" Hope scoffed at the idea. "I just don't see that the good Duke would ever ignore any of his associates in this way."

"The Duke doesn't know. To the outside it seems like there's nothing wrong," Wolf said clearly not telling everything that he could.

"But how could the barony function without someone in charge? And doesn't the Duke expect reports to be made? I can't imagine that absolutely no one would notice."

Wolf sighed, "My dear Esperanza, you are a very difficult woman to deal with. I was honestly not expecting you to have such a well versed intellect."

Hope took great offense at that. "Is it too much of a problem for you that I happen to be well educated as my father wished?"

"No, not at all," Wolf quickly said. "I have a very deep respect for intelligent women." Hope rolled her eyes. "It just means that you expect answers to your questions unlike most of the women out there who would be satisfied with only half replies. But as much as I find that aspect of you to be truly refreshing, and I really would like to tell you all that you want to know, I simply cannot."

"Why? I bet it's more like you won't rather than you can't."

"No, Esperanza, I promise you I would if I could, but I am not allowed." Wolf genuinely seemed distressed at this, but Hope ignored the sorrow in his eyes.

"Not allowed?" she said. "What could possibly be stopping you besides yourself?"

"I can't tell you that either. Please, Esperanza, I simply can't. I'm sorry." Wolf's eyes begged for Hope to understand.

Seeing this, Hope took a deep breath, and did her best to calm her anger. "Well, I don't see why you can't, but I will just have to accept it for now I guess. However, I will warn you," Hope's eyes flashed competitively as she said this, "now that you have only given me more questions, I am determined to find all of the answers whether you tell them to me or not."

"So be it," Wolf said. There was a solemn glint in his eyes, and Hope couldn't tell from them if he was disappointed or pleased with what she had just said.

"Now," Wolf went on, "Let us continue the tour. There is much still to be seen."

Honestly curious, Hope followed Wolf as he took her down the hall. She soon realized that for the most part the house was built symmetrically. The entrance hall was set in the middle and to either side stretched almost identical wings. At the far end of the wing they had just left, lay the kitchens and dining hall, so Hope deduced that this hall must have a similarly large room at its terminus. This made it no surprise when Wolf brought her before a set of double doors.

"I mentioned earlier how music and parties were always a big to do around here, but the greatest pride of this barony has always been its book collection. When this Manor was built, Señor Ricardo ordered the largest library as of yet to be constructed. It lies behind these doors. Would you like to see it?" Wolf asked.

"Would I ever! I absolutely love books," Hope exclaimed.

Pleased to see her take interest, Wolf opened the doors of the library for Hope. She gasped at the immensity of the collection that lay before her. The main room was at least the size of the dining hall and main kitchens combined. Almost every inch of wall space was dedicated to shelves of books, broken only by grand, floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed in ample amounts of light. Filling most of the room was free standing shelves carved to echo arches of Spanish cathedrals. Small arched doorways in the far wall showed into alcoves stocked with yet more books and furnished as study rooms, with deeply cushioned couches and writing desks.

Overwhelmed by the size of the library and amount of books, Hope simply began browsing the shelves to get a feel for what was available. She found that the shelves were all neatly divided into categories by genre of novels and function of other resources, such as maps, scrolls, letters, musical scores, and more.

"This is incredible," Hope said. "I can't believe I didn't find this room before."

"You have only been here one day," Wolf reminded her. "Why else would we be taking this tour?"

Hope laughed and smiled deeply at the Wolf. He felt his heart skip, missing a beat and catching in his throat. Sunlight illuminated Hope's clear, pale skin and Wolf longed to reach forward and run a finger along her cheek, but he feared how she would react, so he restrained himself. His discomfort was quickly relieved as Hope moved away into the grand library to examine the books more closely.

Her eyes had been caught by a shelf labeled "Fables." She selected a rather thick volume bound with embossed leather and entitled: The Arabian Nights.

"These were my favorites growing up," Hope reminisced. "I read my copy so much the binding started to come apart."

"Then take my copy to replace yours," Wolf said, moving to stand beside her.

"Oh, I couldn't," Hope said, taking a step back. "This book belongs here in the library where anyone can read it."

"If that is what you wish, Esperanza. Though, I can assure you no one has come to read these books in many years."

"That's a shame," Hope said absently looking around her. "Maybe that'll change soon… I don't know; I just can't imagine people not wanting to come and see this place. A collection like this would draw hundreds of avid readers. I can't believe I haven't heard about this collection before. Though I must admit, even if I had known about this place sooner I probably couldn't read half of these books if I spent the rest of my life here."

"I wish you would," Wolf said cryptically, staring into Hope's soft, yet puzzled eyes.

Suddenly feeling awkward and wary of the beast, Hope stepped further away and moved to another shelf, the book of Middle Eastern fables still clutched to her chest. She browsed silently for a while, and Wolf respectfully kept his distance not wanting to make her feel any more uncomfortable. The silence still felt awkward, though, and just to break it, Hope stopped and looked to the Wolf. "Well, I can always come back and continue looking later. I think I'll just stick with this book for right now," Hope said indicating the beloved volume in her hands.

"An excellent book to start with," Wolf said, also happy to end the silence. "Shall we continue the tour, then?" Wolf asked expectantly.

"Yes," Hope said, "where to, might I ask?"

"Well, I suppose that's up to you," Wolf said. "There's not much more to see here in the house besides all of the living spaces, most of the attractions are here on the first floor. Or we could go out and see the gardens."

Hope shook her head. "I don't think I'd like to return to that garden. I don't want to get into any more trouble. "

Wolf smiled. "Not that garden, Esperanza. There is a decently large stretch of gardens behind the house hidden from the view of the cliff. You may find them enjoyable to explore, and I promise none of the flowers there will cause you any strife."

"I see," Hope said, thinking over the choices. "Well I've already seen a good portion of the second floor, so unless there is something else you'd really like to show me, or take me back to… I'd love to look at the gardens." She looked hopefully at the Wolf, wondering if he would pick up on her hint and tell her more about the abandoned wing that housed the looking glass.

He didn't, however, or simply he ignored the hint. Instead, he said, "Splendid, I will show you the gardens then! There's a door that leads right to them from this library if you will please follow me, Esperanza."

Outside the air was clear and crisp, typical of a late winter's afternoon. But here at the Wolf's mansion, it was as if the plants did not know the season. Every plant seemed in a tizzy of growth; budding, flowering, or bearing fruit. There was no sense to the growth as everything seemed to be alive all at once with no clear progression of life cycles. The one stage that was very clearly missing was death. Dormancy did not exist among these plants.

At a glance, Hope could see that the gardens were much larger than Wolf had led her to believe. They spanned the entire length of the house and other buildings before them and ran several acres back into the wooden hills. They were meticulously laid out in a gird-like system. Flower beds were easily accessible by the many different paths that wandered through. Well spaced statues, fountains, and an intricate rock garden broke up the vastness of the sea of green and other vibrant colors. Two stately gazebos of widely different architecture stood guarding an open swath of lawn set in the center-front of the gardens.

Wolf began to lead Hope through the nearest patch of flowers when he suddenly stopped, inclining his head as if to listen to some barely audible sound.

"What is it?" Hope asked.

Her answer came as a stern hush from the Wolf. Then faintly she heard a string of whispers. The day spent with the beast had nearly driven the idea of invisible and silent servants out of her mind. Now they seemed copiously at the fore front of her thoughts. How many had she passed today without even knowing they were there? How many were looking on right now? She had no way to tell. Unconsciously she looked around, but of course there was nothing to see.

"Sorry," Wolf said, turning to look at Hope after a moment. "I did not mean to seem rude. I was merely trying to hear him as best I could."

"Who was that?" Hope said accepting the apology.

"This _is_ the head of my house hold staff, Antonio," Wolf said indicating that the servant still stood by. "He has informed me that lunch is ready to be served wherever we so desire. How about eating out here in one of the gazebos?"

"Sure," Hope said, "it certainly is a nice enough day."

"Splendid then! Antonio, we will be served here," Wolf said turning to the unseen servant. Hope felt a soft rush of air as Antonio moved passed her and back into the house. Wolf looked to Hope again and said, "If you don't mind, Esperanza, we will continue the tour after lunch. For now let us retire to yonder gazebo," he said pointing to the nearest of the two structures which was still a goodly distance away.

Hope said, "Of course, lunch would be a welcomed break indeed."

As they sat around a wicker table and had their food served to them in the cool, but nice shade of the gazebo, Hope wondered why her stomach was attempting to tie itself in knots. She suddenly realized that this was the first meal she would actually be sharing with the beast, and she was nervous. She asked herself why he hadn't eaten with her before, but could come up with no clear answer. As the food was set before her and they began to eat, a possible answer entered her mind.

Hope was served a light salad that had shrimp in a vinaigrette dressing, then a delicately spiced soup with ingredients that she couldn't fully recognize, but which tasted delicious. Wolf was given a steak that seemed to have hardly touched the grill; it was so rare. He did his best to eat it with a fork and knife and some measure of dignity, but his paw-like hands found the utensils clumsy, and he quickly looked very sloppy with beef juice dripping into his fur. Hope suddenly had the impression that he most likely never used forks and knives, instead preferring to resort to eating with his hands like an animal. Noting his obvious pride, this could be one reason as to why he had never eaten with her before. Hope then felt bad that she had earlier accused his absence as being out of mischievousness and spite.

Wolf noticed Hope studying him intently and suddenly felt ashamed of his inability to use simple, everyday utensils. He silently chastised himself for not practicing more often. Of course before Hope had arrived there had been no need to be civil as he had largely eaten alone with only Antonio in attendance. Now he regretted that decision.

"This food is really delicious," Hope suddenly said, demurely looking down at her plate. "I'd like to send my compliments to the chef."

"Indeed," Wolf replied, grateful that she had chosen not to say anything awkward. "I'll make sure that he knows your sentiments. Antonio, if you would please do so," Wolf spoke to the invisible man who had been standing by quietly as they ate.

The swish of the air told Hope he had left. "Thank you," she called after him.

"You're starting to become more aware of where they are, aren't you?" Wolf observed referencing his servants.

"Only when they move," Hope replied. "There's a certain 'swish' in the air…"

"Indeed," Wolf agreed. "Soon you'll probably be able to tell when they're just standing around too. It feels intensely like someone's watching you, which is probably true now that I think about it," he laughed.

Hope didn't say anything to that, mainly because she didn't know what to say. So Wolf changed subjects and asked, "Would you like to continue our tour soon?"

"I suppose," Hope said, not sure what else to say. "What all is there left to see?"

"Well, there is rest of the gardens, and I don't believe I've showed you the ballroom yet, but that's mostly it. Everywhere else is pretty much self explanatory."

This last comment made Hope deeply tempted to ask about the abandoned odd wing, but she managed to restrain her tongue and instead said, "I would certainly like to see the ballroom. I absolutely love dancing. And the gardens aren't going to go anywhere so I can always come and explore more of them later, if that's alright with you. No point in seeing everything all in one day, you know."

"Of course," Wolf said. "Let us then go to the ballroom, and then I think I will take leave of your presence for the rest of the day, that is if it's alright with you."

"Of course," Hope replied, her eyes searching his for why he had asked that question as if his freedom depended on her instead of the other way around.

They waited patiently until the table had been cleared. Then walking aimlessly, they meandered back towards the house. From behind, Hope realized that the building was not quite as symmetric as she had originally thought. There was a curious third wing that from a bird's eye view made the mansion look like a giant "T", but the leg of the "T" was off center, seemingly pushed aside by an great cube that obviously enclosed a enormous room. This made Hope think that the third wing had been added on as an afterthought of necessity and not design.

Doors to the large cubical room perched atop stairs that led grandly up from the gardens. To these they ascended and entered an ornately decorated ballroom.

Hope had never seen a room so lavishly decorated with gold gilding and painted designs. Countless tall windows in three of the four walls made the room seem very airy. Hope instantly liked the place. From a grand platform in the far corner she could just imagine music pouring out over crowds of dancers. She wished that there was music here now and the room wasn't so completely empty. Vaguely she noticed that instead there was an eerie silence and a thick coating of dust dulled the parquet hardwood floor. But oh how she just wanted to dance! Experimentally, she twirled around into the center of the room, wishing she was wearing a better dress with a fuller skirt.

Wolf stood off near the doors they had come through, smiling as he watched her dance. She was so beautiful! He'd give anything to hold her and dance along.

Hope noticed his eyes on her and felt embarrassed. She stopped spinning. "Sorry," she said, "I just love to dance."

"I can tell," Wolf said still smiling. "Maybe I'll have my house musicians dust off their instruments sometime and we could dance together."

"Maybe," Hope said quietly, thinking it would be extremely awkward to dance with the beast.

"Well," Wolf said striding across the hall towards another set of doors. "That's pretty much all I wanted to show you on our tour today." They exited the ballroom into the main entryway of the house, and Hope realized that these were the doors in the atrium, behind the stairs that she had wanted to investigate yesterday.

"What do you think?" Wolf asked turning to look at his Esperanza.

"It's an absolutely gorgeous house," Hope said. "I must admit I like it, even if it is to be my prison." She said this last line without really intending to and instantly regretted it.

Wolf looked hurt and said, "I really wish you wouldn't think of it like that. I want you to be happy here."

"Then why did you make me a prisoner?" Hope asked with all honesty.

"I had no choice, Esperanza. It's difficult to explain…" his voice lamely trailed off.

"I wish you would," Hope insisted. "My father's probably worried sick over me. Don't you think you should let me at least contact him? I wouldn't even have to leave. All I'd have to do is write a letter."

"I'm sorry, Esperanza, but I won't allow anyone to know where you are right now. They might try and come to take you away from me."

"I guarantee you, if you don't let my father know that I am safe he will come looking for me, and he will never stop until he has found me," Hope said glaring dangerously and with indignation.

"I will take your words into consideration," Wolf said mildly, ignoring her glare. "It may be as you say, but I doubt your father would be able to find you anyway, unless he knew where to look. We are fairly well hidden here, and I would like to keep it that way."

His words sounded with a certainty that scared Hope. _What kind of place was this?_ She briefly thought and looked warily up at the beast's viscous looking face.

Wolf went on oblivious, "Still, it might not be a bad idea to slow him down with a calming letter. I don't know; I'll have to think about it," Wolf said.

"Why am I so important to you?" Hope asked, fearful of the finality in the beast's words that had further sealed her imprisonment.

"Because I… I think you're special," Wolf quickly looked away in an attempt to avoid Hope's piercing gaze.

"That's doesn't make any sense!" Hope protested.

"Well it's all I can tell you!" Wolf said. "Can't you just accept that for once Esperanza?"

"No!" Hope snapped. "I won't be satisfied until I have an answer. I will find out what's going on here!"

"Fine!" Wolf snapped back. "But I'm not telling you anything more. There are certain things I just won't do; it's too risky."

"Risky?" Hope recoiled, shocked. "What could possibly be risky about telling me why in God's name you have imprisoned me?" She raged, not even caring that cursing was highly unladylike.

"Esperanza! I will not tolerate that tone of voice from you!" Wolf scolded her. "I am in charge here and what I say goes!"

"Fine then," Hope abated, more out of fear than good manners. "But if my captor doesn't mind, I wish to retire to my rooms now." She turned on her heal and stormed up the marble stairs, not waiting for an answer.

Wolf hurled himself at the opposite side of the double staircase, muttering angrily under his breath. He bounded up the steps taking several at a time. For a moment Hope froze, fearing that he meant to cut her off. Instead he turned down the hall away from her, disappearing around the corner into the dark hallway that led to the mirror. Hope heard a door slam and then after a few moments, another. She was almost tempted to follow. Then remembering that she was supposed to be mad at the beast, she turned and went to her own room, slamming the door for good measure.

* * *

**AN: Updated version of chapter 10, only slight adjustments. I must apologize that it took me two years to get this chapter published.**

**As always, please feel free to leave comments and critiques as I highly value both! Enjoy!**


	11. Chapter 11

The air outside was chill but calm. Hope pulled a blanket more closely around her shoulders and sat down in a well sculpted wicker chair. The oncoming sunset promised a marvelous display, and she hoped she would get to see part of it before she was inevitably whisked away to dinner by the vigilant household staff. She clutched a book thinking it would help her pass the time, but as Hope sat there thinking, the volume – Arabian Nights – lay on her lap unopened. The day, up until now, had been filled with events that weighed heavily on her mind.

The tour of the mansion had made her prison seem much less imposing. She quickly realized that her captor, the beast, fully intended to offer her every comfort of a villa as if she were on vacation. The knowledge that she wasn't allowed to leave, however, tainted these comforts. When she questioned the beast as to why he held her captive he had simply replied that she was important. Confused, Hope queried after his meaning, but Wolf answered just as cryptically. He said that he thought her to be special. _And just what was that supposed to mean?_ Hope thought.

For a brief, irrational moment, Hope thought that maybe it meant he was in love with her. She shivered uncontrollably at the thought before brushing it aside. It was crazy to think that a creature like the Wolf would ever feel for a human that way. No, Hope was sure that her imprisonment was out of some natural malice in the beast or part of some complex political game. She snuggled back into her chair; her mind a bit more comfortable with this last thought. _Now what could the political game be?,_ she speculated.

Her father, an ambassador and therefore politician, had often been wrapped up in games among the royalty and nobles, but nothing to this extent. She wondered if her father even knew this beast existed, and for that matter, what would Wolf have against her father? The feud must be pretty important to go so far as kidnapping his daughter.

Unexpectedly, the hunting call of an owl ghosted through the trees interrupting Hope's thoughts. Hope looked up to find the bird. He was surprisingly not very far away. He turned and flew out over the center of the meadow at the bottom of the cliff where the mansion was built. The owl still seemed awfully close, however, due to the clear night air and the elevated vantage point at which Hope sat. Intently the owl monitored the ground until locking his gaze on something on the ground unseen to Hope. He began to spiral downward, ever accelerating. In the last possible instant, her pulled up, wings flapping, claws fully extended to strike at his prey. Then he was airborne again. Hope strained her eyes to see if he held anything. The owl continued to rise in the air and then flew off to the west over the tree tops. It was then, lit by the ruddy background of the setting sun, that hope picked out the shape of a mouse in its claws.

Almost as if giving a brief eulogy a wolf howled. Hoped looked around startled, expecting to see the beast somewhere. When the wolf howled again, however, she knew that this was an ordinary wolf and not her beast.

_Wait a second… my beast?_ She suddenly thought. _ No the beast… Why did I even think that? Just who is he, and what is this place? Clearly it's enchanted, but why?_ Hope's stream of thought led her to ponder over many questions like these for a while. However she discerned no clear answers other than the astute observation that Wolf was at the center of it all. Whether he was the cause or merely a result of the curse, she did not know.

_If only I knew what happened to the baron who owns this place, _Hope thought. _I bet he would have many of the answers…_

A thought suddenly came to Hope that made her heart beat with much excitement. _What if the Baron hasn't truly disappeared? What if I could find him? I'm sure so many things would be made better then, and all of this mystery would be cleared up. But where to start; how should I find him?_

The balcony door opened, ending Hope's contemplation. She could sense that an invisible servant had joined her. Looking around she noticed that the servant was offering out a notepad with writing on it. Hope took it and read, "Hola, this is Maria. May I join you?"

"Hello Maria," Hope said aloud. "Is it time for dinner yet?" She handed the notepad back.

"Not quite," Maria wrote. "I was hoping we might have some time to talk first."

"Sure," Hope said, "What shall we talk about?"

"Oh, I don't know," Maria said. "I was just hoping to get to know you better. After all, we'll be spending some time together and I haven't talked to, or even seen, anyone new in these parts for what seems like ages!"

"How long have you been here?" Hope asked.

"Oh, just about eight years; I'm only sixteen and a half," Maria replied.

"You're very close to my age then, I'm eighteen as of three months ago," Hope said. "But you've been here eight years! That's quite a while and means that you were here before the beast."

"He is not a beast!" Maria quickly retorted, and then said, "But yes, the curse began five years ago."

"So then you knew the Baron?"

"Yes, rather well actually, you see, I am his cousin."

"What?" Hope exclaimed. "You're related to the Baron of this land? Who is he? Do you know what happened to him?"

If Hope could have seen Maria's face, she would see a vibrant smile break across it. "Wolf was right; you do ask a lot of questions."

"You talk to him?"

"Of course, he's my master and a good one at that," Hope noticed that Maria wrote these words confidently with no sign of hesitancy.

"But he's a wolf creature," Hope said sounding shocked. "He's not even close to being human, and he is very mean. Why do you respect him?"

"Because he is not that way all the time," Maria wrote and then quickly added in a scribbled hand, "Cruel, I mean. He's not always cruel. It just takes time to get to know him."

"I bet," Hope said. "He seems very complicated."

"Aren't we all?"

"Good point," Hope smiled in Maria's direction, still not entirely positive of where the invisible servant stood. It occurred to Hope that Maria might be able to help answer some of her questions about the baron, although her outlook wasn't overly optimistic. She figured at least trying wouldn't hurt though, so she asked, "You told me the curse started five years ago. Wolf told me earlier today that he has been here for five years. Can you possibly tell me how the two tie together?"

"I'm sorry my lady, but I cannot," Maria said. "That is one of those questions no one here can answer for you."

"Of course not," Hope sighed. "You know I find unanswered questions to be the most annoying thing in the world. Just ask my papa; we were having this same issue right before the crash. He wanted to get home in such a hurry but wouldn't tell me why. I'm still upset over that…"

"I'm sorry," Maria said again, "but I guess you'll have to add another mystery to your list because I really am incapable of telling you the answers."

"It's alright," Hope said, "I kind of had a feeling that would be your response anyway."

Hope felt rather than saw Maria take a seat next to her in a nearby chair. The two women sat in silence for a moment, and then Maria wrote, "Tell me about your father and your family back in France."

"Well, Papa is my only family," Hope said. She told Maria about her mother's tragic death and the way life had been ever since.

"I haven't had many friends these last few years," Hope said. "I simply haven't had the time. With all of the responsibilities of the household I don't have much time to socialize. My closest friend in the world is Claire, my maidservant back in France. She's also the closest thing I have to a sister. After all, we grew up together. Her mother was servant to my mother, so we've always known each other." Hope looked sadly out over the unfamiliar horizon and sighed deeply. "I miss her."

Maria wrote, "Oh, I'm sorry ma'am. I wish there was some way I could help you, or at least assure you an equally good service here, but I haven't been a maidservant very long and you're the first personal assignment I've ever received. I may not be as good as your friend Claire."

"I would not say that," Hope said smiling. "I think you are doing just grand. Your effort in wanting to make friends is most certainly an excellent start, and I think it is working." Hope winked at Maria, or at least where she thought Maria sat in the chair next to her.

Maria giggled and wrote, "Oh good."

The two girls talked straight through the sunset. They discussed interest like their favorite books, music, dances, food, and even men. Any on looker would have clearly been able to see that the girls were very quickly become fine friends.

The darkening sky eventually caught the girls' attention and the conversation broke off. They both panicked with the thought of being late to dinner. Hope hurriedly checked her hair and dress at a mirror inside her boudoir and then rushed to the dining hall. There, she was grateful to see that again only one place setting had been prepared and the beast was nowhere to be seen. An invisible servant pulled out the chair for her. She took the seat trying to appear dignified and not rushed.

The meal served to Hope was of extraordinary quality as had been all of the meals so far. However, the high quality of the food did little to calm her nerves. She consumed her food in a very edgy mood, expecting that at any moment the beast would come. She figured Wolf would be angry and feared he might even do something to make her punishment worse. After all, she had made him fairly mad earlier that afternoon with all of her questions and poor attitude.

Once her meal was over the servants cleared her plates and left her in silence. Doing her best to maintain sanity by carefully breathing in and out to the slow count of ten, Hope waited for the inevitable arrival of the beast. Mentally, she tried to prepare herself to block out the fear that almost always rose in her breast when she looked into the human-like eyes of the animal that was her captor. When Wolf finally did come in, despite her initial surprise, Hope found herself more taken aback by the beast's attitude. Unlike what she expected, he was not angry. Instead, Wolf seemed confused, as if he did not know how to proceed with the meeting.

/\/\/\

The servant door from the kitchens to the hall opened abruptly and seemingly by itself. Wolf could not see who it was who approached him, as all the servants in the household were invisible, but he sensed that it was his chief of staff, Antonio.

"Is it time?" Wolf asked before the servant had finished pulling a pad of paper and pencil from some unseen pocket. "Has she finished eating?"

"Yes," Antonio wrote. "She has just finished her dessert, and the staff awaits your decision on if they should bring out wine for the both of you."

"No, no, Antonio. I don't feel up to staying that long, but thank you."

"As you wish my lord," Antonio said, leaving with the orders. Wolf took a deep breath trying to calm his anxiety before he entered the dining hall.

The doors were opened by two unseen servants. Wolf walked in, painfully aware of the clacking noise that his claws made on the polished wood floor. There before him at the dinner sat Hope, whom he preferred to call Esperanza, with her back to him. For a moment his knees felt week under the weight of his massively muscles chest. The dim light of the hall glowed off of Hope's skin and seemed to highlight the sensual curves of her neck and corseted torso. The warm pink color of Hope's dress suited her skin tone well, Wolf silently approved.

Wolf took another step trying to remain quiet so that he could savor Hope's beauty as long as possible. However, this was not to be. Hope heard the sound of his approach and turned around sharply. The look on her face of mixed fear and anger brought Wolf crashing back to reality. She did not love him the way he loved her. She hated him. After all, he admitted silently, he did imprison her with some extremely stringent restrictions. Still looking into Hope's eyes and seeing so much accusation aimed at him, hurt.

"You know," Hope said, "the silence of this place is really starting to get to me. The fact that you like sneaking up on people most certainly does not help."

"I'm sorry," Wolf said. "I did not mean to startle you. I guess the silence just kind of grows on one after a time."

"Yes, but now that you have a _guest,_" Hope seemed to stress the last word, "you should really be more considerate and warm me whenever you approach."

"Please, Esperanza," Wolf said controlling his instinct to snap back, "I did not come here to fight any more. This afternoon is still too fresh in both of our minds." He paused for a moment as if deciding something and then said, "But I have done my best to dismiss the situation. For now let us talk of something else."

"Like what?" Hope asked, breathing slowly in an apparent attempt to control her angry and confused emotions.

"I don't know," Wolf said dejectedly as he took his seat across the table from Hope.

"Well that's helpful," Hope mumbled. Wolf glared at her, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it.

Almost painfully time ticked by as they sat in awkward silence. Wolf rooted around in his mind, trying to come up with something to say. Hope was certainly doing her best to be difficult, he thought, but the last thing he wanted was to lose what little trust of hers he had gained that day. He looked up and noticed that Hope was openly watching him with a curious stare on her face.

"Is everything alright?" She prompted. "I've never seen you at such a loss for words."

"Well, it's just… You see, Esperanza…" Wolf attempted to say something, but his thoughts kept becoming muddled whenever he looked into Hope's eyes. Oh, this was all just coming out so wrong! What should he say? What should he do? This whole situation just was not working.

Suddenly feeling very awkward and wanting very much to get away from Hope's piercing gaze, Wolf said, "Esperanza, with your permission, let us just forget this conversation and retire for the evening."

Hope looked startled. "But you've just barely come in."

"I know," he quickly said. "We haven't really done much talking, but I think it would be best if we just went our separate ways for now. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow," he said as he stood up from the table, preparing to leave. "Hopefully then we will both be better prepared to talk."

"Um, ok," Hope slowly said taking in Wolf's words. "I guess this is goodnight then."

"Indeed," Wolf smiled. "Goodnight Esperanza." He moved past her to the doors. The invisible servants opened the doors for him, but before he left he turned around to see Hope standing up and turning to follow him out. "Oh, and Esperanza," he said, "I'm sorry about this afternoon." Then he turned and walked on, keeping his gaze forward until he reached his room.

* * *

**AN: Another update in under two years! I'm doing well; I think. :) Please note that I had to change the style of my page break icon for point-of-view changes because for some reason the document program on this site will no longer allow me to use asterisks. Hopefully that didn't confuse anyone too much. **

**Thank you for you patience and please feel free to leave me a review, ask a question, or make suggestions. Hopefully I will have another update for you soon, though I haven't started writing it yet, so please bear with me. **

**With much appreciation for you getting this far,  
Leigh Wolf  
**


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